


Echoing Hearts

by autumnstar



Series: Echoing Hearts [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, it's a new realm, it's not the Wish Realm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2019-06-09 00:20:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 52,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15255270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumnstar/pseuds/autumnstar
Summary: Left behind after the Evil Queen cast her curse, Belle spent the last 28 years alone in the Enchanted Forest. With everything she once loved lost, and nowhere safe to go, she barely dares to hope that the rumours of the Dark One’s return are true. Until she makes a wish.Winner of Best Wish!Rumple in the 2019 TEAsNominated for Best Rumbelle Fic in the 2019 TEAs





	1. Another Tale

She'd stayed in the Dark Castle until Rumplestiltskin's magic failed, and vandals dared to come and steal what magical objects he'd hoarded away.

They were cowards. All of them. They never would have stolen from the Dark One had he not been swept away by Regina's curse. But they all knew the moment he’d left, or the moment he’d died. Belle couldn’t be sure. The purple cloud spread over the Enchanted Forest, and the wards of the Dark Castle weakened. The eternally burning fires and candles started to die down as Rumplestiltskin’s magic disappeared from the realm.

After that, Belle had moved on. She'd taken what supplies she could from the kitchens, and a number of travelling clothes from what Rumplestiltskin had given her. And something else. Just a little keepsake of her happier times in the castle. It didn't seem right to take anything else, not after how badly she'd failed him. She hadn't been able to help him out of Snow White and Prince Charming's dungeon, and now he was gone.

Whether he was dead or in a new land like the rumours suggested, Belle never found out. All she'd achieved was a wanted poster with her likeness slapped along every road and in every village in the Enchanted Forest.

She hadn't meant to kill one of Snow White's guards. She'd just been trying to help Rumplestiltskin escape.

Now she was camped in a cave, just to the edge of the Enchanted Forest, and upstream from a little fishing village in the Fenlands. It was perfect for washing, perfect for getting food, and the rumours of a monster living in the cave - which Belle may or may not have started herself - meant she was perfectly alone. No one came to bother her, and there was no one to give away her position to the Queen of Hearts. Cora had a warrant out for anyone who'd been an ally of Snow White's or Rumplestiltskin's, and Belle didn't intend on being caught any time soon.

Still, she would sometimes venture into the village in an oversized hood to barter for more food, or cloth to mend her clothes. It was just unfortunate that the day she decided she needed new boots was the day Cora sent her Red Knights into the villages of the Fenlands.

Belle ducked behind a stall selling fresh fish and pulled her hood lower over her face, as the knights rode into the market square. People hurried to get out of their way, and those that were quick enough managed to run inside their homes. The market was usually loud and bustling, but a deathly silence had fallen the second the Red Knights were spotted, and it only got quieter when the Captain dismounted from his horse.

He declared, in a booming voice, that there'd been a series of sightings reported. Queen Cora was offering a reward to anyone that had information on the Dark One's whereabouts, and until he was found, every village had to submit to a search. Starting with those in the Fenlands.

Slipping back into the woods, Belle ran back to her cave and stayed there until the following night. Then she left her hiding place for only one purpose. She walked to the river, where the canopy of the trees overheard was at its thinnest, and found the brightest star in the sky. She didn't have any magic of her own, and she'd seen the effects of dark magic on a good man, but Belle remembered stories about wishing upon a star from her childhood.

It couldn't hurt to try, she told herself, and if Rumplestiltskin really was back then Belle wanted to be the first to find him.

The following day, a number of the knights stopped their searching of the village, and branched out into the neighbouring woodland. She couldn't blame them, it was the perfect place to hide. Belle just wished she'd considered that before she ventured out that morning to wash.

Keeping off the path and away from her cave, Belle ran through the brush, using her gold hood to cover her face and hair. The only weapon she had on her was her dagger, and against armed men she really wouldn't stand a chance in hand-to-hand combat. Which meant that her only option, as much as she hated it, was to run.

She’d wished for Rumplestiltskin to be back in the Enchanted Forest, but as she ran through the trees, Belle regretted not wishing for an easier way to outrun Cora’s Red Knights.

An arrow whizzed by her head, and Belle slipped down into a stream. She landed with an indignant splat and a groan, as a tree root dug into her back. Her boots and trousers were instantly soaked with muddy water, but she had to push herself back up and carry on. After thirty years of avoiding the Queen, there was no way she’d let herself be caught because of a patch of mud.

There was another groan behind her, followed by cries of surprise and pain. At first, she thought it was because the knights themselves had slipped in the stream, until she noted the resounding _snaps_ that followed.

She skidded to a stop and jumped behind a tree, taking a moment to catch her breath. There were no more heavy footsteps running after her, and no clink of armour or swords. That couldn’t be good. Even if they were walking away, Belle should have heard _something_ , not complete silence.

Taking a deep breath, she made herself peek around the tree, drawing her dagger, and saw nothing. She frowned and stepped out. Five guards had been chasing her. She’d counted them. Now she was very much alone, in the middle of the woods, with no sign of what could have happened to them.

Until she walked back to the stream. The five guards were there, lying face down in the water. Their white tunics were stained as red as the hearts sewn into them, and two of them had their heads twisted at impossible angles.

Belle stumbled backwards, and let out a cry as her boot caught on a fallen branch. Something hard and solid wrapped around her, breaking her fall, and hauled her back up to her feet before she could pull away.

“No need to thank me,” an old, familiar voice trilled. “I was going to kill them anyway.”

The man holding onto her giggled, and her stomach dropped. The blood drained from her face as she struggled, lightheaded, and pushed the arms of the ghost away from her.

“No,” she muttered to herself. “No, no, no.”

“It’s a little late for that.”

“ _No_.” Belle insisted, because she didn’t know what else to say. She righted herself and turned to face him, and there he was. Right in front of her, with an impossible grin and fluttering fingers, was the man she’d failed to save. The man she thought she’d let die.

“You’re really… It was all true.”

“Was it?” Rumplestiltskin reached out to touch her and she jumped back.

“How did you get back?”

“ _Back_?” He frowned and looked around the forest, searching for something that Belle couldn’t see. A flicker of uncertainty crossed his face, and then he looked at her with a new expression. It was one that Belle couldn’t read, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. “This isn’t the Underworld?”

“I bloody hope not!” She snapped. “Is that where you’ve been?”

“No.” He frowned, but it was more out of confusion than anger. “You’re not dead?”

“Clearly not.” A humourless laugh escaped her, an almost hysterical noise as it hit her that he really was there and she hadn’t failed him at all. He’d been alive all this time, and he’d let her think he was dead.

“Should I be?” She asked, but he only stared at her. “Rumple?”

“No... Possibly.” He paused to consider her question. “Yes,” he sang. “Yes, yes, _yes_.”

Rumplestiltskin danced over to her and waved his hands up and down the length of Belle's body. He didn’t touch her, but he was close enough for her to feel his heat and the buzz of magic. _He’s lost his mind_ , she thought.

Then he straightened up and stepped back, astonished.

"You're real," he said, almost in a whisper.

"Of course I'm real! You're--" That was when she noticed something different about him.

Belle looked him up and down slowly and frowned. He dressed how Rumplestiltskin dressed - in scaled leathers and tight trousers - and he moved how Rumplestiltskin moved, but something was decidedly different about him. The tingle of magic that followed him around felt different to how she remembered it. It was heavier, and she doubted it was her memories that were wrong. She’d never forget the feeling of Rumplestiltskin’s presence.

"What happened to you?" Belle demanded.

"Oh, it's quite the tale," he teased. "I'll tell you mine, if you tell me yours." He grinned, and as much as it tugged at her heart, Belle could still sense that something was... off about him.

"Do we have a deal?"

She wasn’t about to jump into making any deals with Rumplestiltskin, she knew him and his love of words, but she did _want_ to know his tale. It was only fair that she should tell him hers in return.

"Deal," she agreed with a single nod.

He giggled and sat down on a fallen log. The movement was so slow and deliberate, and the leather of his trousers pulled tight as he crossed his legs, that Belle couldn't look away.

"Is it a story you want, dearie?" His voice made her look back up, into his amber eyes. "Or something else?"

"Just tell me where you've been. Please."

Rumplestiltskin tilted his head and considered her for a moment, with a growing smirk. Belle met his eyes steadily and waited for him to talk. He could try to intimidate her all he wanted, it would never work. It never had before, and it wouldn’t now. Besides, she was far too shocked to feel much else.

“What happened in this realm?” He asked, and Belle was about to tell him he couldn’t get out of answering her that easily, when he held up an impatient finger. “Was the Dark Curse ever cast?”

“Have you been locked up all this time?” She returned, but Rumplestiltskin only arched an eyebrow at her. Belle sighed. “Yes. Yes, it was cast. Why?”

“In my realm,” he answered, placing a hand on his chest, “It wasn’t.” Slipping off the log in one swift motion, he took a step closer to her and grinned, showing all of his teeth. “Why weren’t you taken with the curse?”

“No one in this part of the forest was,” Belle said. He was making less sense than he used to, but if he had questions then she’d try to answer them as best as she could. He at least deserved that, after she’d failed to help him escape. “And time’s stood still ever since.”

“Quite,” he drawled, his grin turning unpleasant. “And Regina. She never imprisoned you?”

“She tried,” Belle remembered with a shudder. “But I got away. Then I tried to free you.”

They were silent as Rumplestiltskin watched her, waiting for her to continue. She didn’t, and after a drawn out pause, he took her quiet for what it was; _an admission of failure_.

“You tried to free me,” he said then, reverently, and stepped even closer. Belle stayed where she was, and when he realised she wasn’t going to move away, he came to stand directly in front of her. “And failed.”

“I did.”

“Well, then you’ll forgive me for not saying thank you.”

Ignoring the flippant comment, and the stab of hurt in her chest, Belle lifted her chin and met his eyes. “What world are you from?”

“My world.”

Belle frowned at him, waiting for a proper answer, and Rumplestiltskin sighed heavily.

“There are many other realms similar to this one. We all branched off the same story.” He mimed the branches of a tree with his fingers. “A million and one possibilities and _what ifs_? In your world, Regina won. In mine? She lost. Spectacularly.”

“And in both our worlds,” she said carefully, “You were locked up?”

“Yes.”

“For how long?”

He wrinkled his nose and moved his hands in a way that Belle assumed was half shrug, and half ‘ _it’s hard to say_ ’.

“A year?” She asked, and he laughed. “Two?”

“More. Much, much more. More like… Twenty-eight.”

“ _Twenty-eight_?” Belle blanched. “You were locked up for twenty-eight years? Where was I?”

The carefully crafted mask of amusement slipped, and for the briefest of seconds, Belle saw beneath it. He wasn’t amused, or as nonchalant and uncaring as he wanted her to believe. He was _hurt_.

“Rumplestiltskin,” she said firmly, reaching out to hold his arm. “Where was I?”

He looked down at her hand as if he couldn’t believe it was real and touching him, but she wouldn’t let go. She gave him an encouraging squeeze, that she wasn’t even sure he’d feel through the thick leather of his sleeve, and nodded at him.

“You died,” he said at least, and Belle’s smile instantly fell. She let go of him, trying to keep her breathing steady, and took a step back.

“I--” Something whistled past her ear, and Rumplestiltskin pulled her into his chest as an arrow embedded itself into the tree behind her. She looked at it, frustrated at being caught off guard because she’d been distracted by a ghost from her past. Rumplestiltskin watched her, and she felt his fingers drawing patterns across her back.

Belle shivered and pulled away, straightening her bodice. She wasn’t going to let him distract her again.

“We have to keep moving.”

“We?” He repeated, and Belle didn’t know if she was frustrated or saddened that he had to ask.

“I’m not just going to leave you!” She insisted, and he tilted his head, making Belle sigh. “Cora’s after both of us. If they find one of us, they’ll know the other was nearby. Now, follow me.”


	2. Dark and Light

The metal ring of armour and the shuffle of boots running through leaves grew closer, and Belle grabbed Rumplestiltskin’s hand. He gave an odd grunt of surprise as she pulled on him and ran from the Queen’s Red Knights. She wasn’t about to leave him behind after she’d only just found him, no matter of much danger he’d put her in. Belle was already wanted for her association with Rumplestiltskin. Why leave him behind now?

Ducking through bracken and jumping over fallen branches, Belle led him towards the edge of the woods. To her surprise, he didn’t protest at her roughly pulling him along. The few times she glanced back at him to make sure he was okay, Rumplestiltskin had a curious, sometimes amused frown on his face. He was always watching her, never the vast woodland around them.

Eventually, she was satisfied enough that she’d lost the Red Knights for good, and began to show the way back to her cave.

“Here,” Rumplestiltskin said, and stopped so abruptly that he jerked Belle to a halt, too. She turned to him questioningly and tugged on his hand again.

“What?” Belle asked. “We’re not stopping here.”

“Ah. Yes. We are.” He tugged back on her hand and started pulling _her_. Belle pulled her hand away and frowned at him.

“I’m taking us somewhere safe.”

“No doubt,” Rumplestiltskin said with a mock bow of his head. “But wherever you were taking us, I’ve found somewhere _much_ better.”

“Are my supplies there?” Belle challenged.

Rumplestiltskin, who until then had looked nothing but entertained at slowing her down, rolled his eyes and flipped his hand in the air. She had no idea what he was doing, but there was a tingle of magic in the air, and her frown deepened.

“Now they are,” he answered, and reached for her hand to pull her after him again. She hesitated, but after another tug from Rumplestiltskin, she followed after him.

Silently, he led her down river to a steep, rocky bank. The water spilled over the edge beside them, spraying and splashing so loudly in the river below that Belle couldn’t even hear her boots slipping on the wet rocks. But Rumplestiltskin held her hand tightly, and when he reached the bottom, he grabbed her by the waist without a word and lifted her down.

To her surprise, Belle found that she didn’t mind him lifting her without asking. She just offered him a smile of thanks, and turned to admire the waterfall. A narrow beam of sunlight broke through the trees, and shined on the water in such a way that it began to sparkle.

“It’s behind there,” Rumplestiltskin said from just to her side. His voice was a lot closer to her ear than necessary.

“What is?”

“Our hiding spot, of course,” he answered, with an entirely new accent, and stepped around her to wade through the knee-deep river. With a wave of his hand, the water parted like a curtain, and he turned to her with a pleased smile to make sure she’d seen his little magic trick.

“You want us to hide behind a waterfall?” Belle asked flatly and followed after him through the water. She was glad she’d given up on her long gowns years ago.

Rumplestiltskin stepped to the side, letting her enter first, and Belle’s breath hitched. It was another cave, much bigger than the one she’d spent the last month living in, and reached so far back that part of it was entirely in shadow. The bright sunlight danced and rippled on the rocks around her, as the waterfall closed behind them. It was eerily beautiful, and not at all the sort of hiding spot she’d imagined Rumplestiltskin taking her to.

“How did you know this was here?” Belle breathed, stepping slowly into the centre, to where her pack and blankets had been left by Rumplestiltskin’s magic.

“This may not be _my_ Enchanted Forest, but it is _an_ Enchanted Forest,” he explained with obvious satisfaction at her response. “And I needed to know all of its best hiding spots.”

“Why?”

“My reasons are mine.”

“Right,” Belle said.

He was still as cut off from her as he’d ever been. He’d started to open up to her, but it had all been undone by a kiss, and he apparently hadn’t forgiven that. That didn’t stop Belle from being curious. “Were you in your Enchanted Forest before you came here?”

She watched him as he found a flat, dry rock in the shadows of the cave, and effortlessly span around to sit down on it. It took him a moment, and he clearly didn’t want to answer her, but eventually he gave her a curt nod.

“Yes,” he said. “In my Dark Castle.”

“And then you just… _poofed_ here?”

“I died.”

“But you… You died?” Belle stepped closer to him, and he leaned back slightly. If it wasn’t for that slight movement, she would have sat beside him, but he was still wary of her. Belle hated it. All she wanted to do was comfort him. “Rumple?”

“It was another, lesser version of myself. It doesn’t matter.”

“So you died there,” she concluded. “And appeared here.”

Rumplestiltskin made a show of crossing his legs, and clasped his hands over his knees. Everything about the way he moved was too controlled, she realised. It was only once they were settled in the cave, and she really watched him, that Belle noticed how changed he was. She missed the high-pitched giggle, or the higher tone of his voice. Now it was deeper, huskier, with a hint of an accent she didn't remember hearing before. He moved differently, too. It was more... inhuman. Almost snake-like. Everything, from the way he tilted his head and watched her, sometimes without blinking, to the careful and smooth way he walked and sat, was new.

Then there was the darkness that hung heavily around him, like the crackle of static in the air before a storm. She’d never noticed it around him before. It reached out to her in a way that both thrilled and scared her, and made her want to reach out to him in return.

Belle wondered how much of that was simply because he was from a different realm, and how much of it had come from his time locked up in solitude. It helped her to think about that, rather than the way he’d been killed by another version of himself. She wouldn’t ask why.

"You're staring again, dearie," Rumplestiltskin said, like it was a warning.

"I'm thinking," she corrected.

"About?"

"You." Belle stepped forward, and Rumplestiltskin tilted his head back to watch her as she approached. "You're different."

"So are you," he said with glee. “I just killed five Red Knights,” he trilled the _r_ and mimed swinging a sword, “Without so much as a squeak from you.”

“They were going to kill me,” she reminded him reluctantly, and his bright grin faded to something darker. “Or drag me back to Cora. It was them or me.”

“I like this new you,” Rumplestiltskin said, his voice deeper once again. “Very ruthless. Very dark.”

“How else would I survive out here on my own?”

“You could have returned to your father and married a handsome prince,” he declared, placing his hand over his heart and pretending to swoon.

“That was never a life I wanted.” She wouldn’t bother to tell him her father was one of the many taken by Regina’s curse.

“And this was?” Rumplestiltskin asked, glancing around the cave pointedly.

“I didn’t really have a choice,” she said sardonically. “I was on the run.”

“What did you do?” He put his chin in his hands and leaned forward, as if he was expecting an exciting story. She sighed.

“I tried to help you escape. After I heard you’d been captured.” Rumplestiltskin nodded for her to go on, because she’d already told him once about her failed rescue attempts, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit out loud what she’d done. Belle pulled her dagger from its scabbard and held it up. His large, watchful eyes darted down to the silver blade, and he tilted his head slowly.

“There were too many guards,” she tried to explain. “It was an accident.”

“You darkened your heart.” He sounded in awe of her as he said it, but she couldn’t tell if he saw it as a good or bad thing. His eyes flicked back up to meet hers, and a smile crept across his lips. “How did it feel?”

“I felt sick.” Belle slid her dagger into its sheath and looked away from him. “I’ll never do that again.”

She focused on the constant rush of the waterfall, and kept her gaze there even as he moved closer. He really had changed if he truly believed there was a possibility of her liking what she’d done. There was always a pull in the back of her mind, luring her back into darkness, but she’d fought it so far. She wouldn’t let it or him tempt her.

“So I’m in no danger from you?” Rumplestiltskin teased, and she tried not to jump when his hand rested on the small of her back. “You weren’t trying to lure the beast back to your cave to… off him?”

“Is that why you brought me here?” Belle asked, but he looked away from her and shrugged. It was such a careful gesture that, instead of convincing her that he really had no answer, it made her even more suspicious. “Did you really think I was leading you into a trap?”

Rumplestiltskin glanced at her, barely meeting her eyes, and Belle didn’t need him to do anything else.

“You still don’t trust me, do you? After I tried to free you!”

“That wasn’t me,” he reminded. As if it mattered.

“It was a version of you! Why would I help one you and betray another?” She snapped. “For the world’s most powerful wizard, you can be so--” Belle clenched her hands into fists, trying to find the right words, or to calm herself, but she failed at both. “--so _stupid_!”

Rumplestiltskin didn’t like her outburst, and Belle didn’t care. He lifted his hand to her throat, but he didn't squeeze, or use the magic she knew he had. He just rested it there.

“Don’t test me, dearie.”

“If you intended to hurt me, you’d have done it already. And you wouldn’t have brought me here.” She grasped his wrist. “You’re all bark and no bite, Rumplestiltskin.”

He growled, showing her his teeth, and pulled his hand away. The fire in his eyes quickly fizzled out when he saw that Belle wasn’t even slightly intimidated. She arched a brow at him challengingly, and he leaned forward. For a moment, Belle thought he might try to kiss her, and it stunned her to realise that she actually _wanted_ him to. Even after all that time. Even after what happened after their first and only kiss.

Rumplestiltskin took a step closer, and she took a step back. Not out of fear, Belle hoped her smile would be proof enough that she wasn’t scared of him, but because she wanted to see what he’d do. His eyes dropped to her feet, and he watched them as he took another step forward, and she took another step back.

“Stop that,” he said.

“Why?”

“I only want to talk.”

Belle could see from the smirk on his lips and the twinkle in his eyes, that he wanted to do anything but.

“I’m sure.”

She couldn’t tell if it was with frustration, anger, or some long buried desire that he grabbed her, but it didn’t hurt. Rumplestiltskin gripped her hips, and she gripped his shoulders, as he lifted her feet off the ground and drove her back into the cave wall.

It was rough, but Belle welcomed every sensation of it after so long apart. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him against her chest, willing him to kiss her, but he held back. Belle couldn’t really blame him after what had happened the last time they’d kissed, but surely he didn’t think True Love’s Kiss would still work for them? It hadn’t really been _them_ that had shared it. It was another version of herself that had almost taken his curse, and another version of him that she’d failed to save.

Testing just how far they could go, Rumplestiltskin buried his face in her hair instead, and inhaled her scent. She wanted to kiss him, but when she turned her head to find his lips, he nipped at her pulse point and Belle gasped.

Rumplestiltskin laughed, but the usual high-pitch of it was huskier, and the sound of it sent another shiver through her body.

"Do you want me to do it again?" He whispered into her ear. Belle nodded her head but struggled to find the words for what she wanted. Rumplestiltskin grunted and nipped at her earlobe, making her gasp again. "Say it."

"Yes," she whispered, finding her voice. "Yes, do it aga-- Oh!" He bit her neck harder, and cooled the sting of it with his tongue.

Belle wasn't sure which one of them started it. She pulled at his shoulders, he snaked his arms around her waist, and suddenly they were kissing. It only came back to her then, in a fleeting memory, why she shouldn’t have let that happen.

Rumplestiltskin froze as her arms wound around his neck, her hands in his wild hair, and pulled back enough for Belle to catch the glimmer of pink, human skin on his lips. Then it was gone; replaced by the shimmer of his green-gold scales.

They stared at one another, wide eyed and panting, before he roughly dropped her and took several, long strides backwards. Belle stumbled and leaned back against the wall to stop herself from falling to the ground. His eyes were wide and wild as he watched her, and his fingers twitched so fast by his sides that she was certain he didn’t know he was doing it.

He took another step back, putting as much distance between them as the cave would allow.

It occurred to her too late what he was about to do. Before Belle could rush to him and tell him to stop, Rumplestiltskin lifted his hands and disappeared in a cloud of magic.


	3. Behind the Waterfall

Belle hadn't dared to leave the cave for the rest of the day. Whilst she was in Rumplestiltskin's hiding spot, behind the waterfall, she was safe. Out in the dense forest, she had no way of knowing if the Red Knights were still searching for her or not. She didn't leave to get food, but the waterfall at least gave her a place to drink and wash while she wondered if Rumplestiltskin would return.

By nightfall, she began to give up hope.

A fire was out of the question, in case its burn was seen through the water, so Belle changed quickly into her night shift and rolled out both of her blankets. She was hungry, and the blankets were barely enough to keep out the settling chill of the night, but it would have to do until the morning. Maybe by then she could be sure the Queen's knights had moved on.

Sleep came as quick as she'd expected. The long day of running, arguing, and then crying after Rumplestiltskin’s disappearance, left her so tired that even her lumpy pillow couldn't keep her awake.

It was in the small hours of the night when she began to stir. An orange light flickered against her eyes, and the lumps and bumps of her pillow were silky soft. She frowned, fighting against the last pulls of sleep, and forced her eyes to open.

Beside her new, fluffy pillow, there was a small candle flickering, casting a warm glow around where she'd slept. A steaming bowl of soup sat beside it, and Belle inhaled the rich scent of vegetables as she sat up and looked around.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness beyond her little candle, but then she spotted him. At the mouth of the cave, crouching on the tips of his toes with his back to her, was Rumplestiltskin.

She couldn’t tell if he was watching the falling water, or looking out to the forest beyond, but he inclined his head towards her when she sat up.

“You came back,” she said. “How long have you been here?”

"I lost track of time," he told her, speaking so softly that Belle could only just hear him over the roar of the waterfall.

Pivoting on the heels of his high boots, Rumplestiltskin effortlessly stood to his full height. Belle watched him closely, half expecting him to disappear again now that she was awake, but he didn't. She wished she could see the expression on his face as he stood watching her, but he was backlit by the cave's opening, and all she could see was his dark silhouette.

It wasn't until he stepped closer to her, into the soft, warm glow of the candle he'd lit, that she knew he was worried. His gaze flickered down to the bowl of soup beside her, and Belle smiled at him.

"Will you eat with me?"

“There’s only one bowl,” he pointed out, but didn’t decline her offer. “For you.”

“Well, now there’s one bowl for both of us.” Determined to keep him close, and to let him know that he was welcome, Belle lifted the bowl and enjoyed the warmth that seeped into her fingers. She wondered if his magic had kept it warm for her whilst she slept, and then told herself that _of course_ it had.

“Do you want the spoon?” Belle offered, but Rumplestiltskin just stared at her as if she’d asked him something deeply personal.

“To _what_?”

“To eat,” she clarified.

Understanding cleared his confused frown, and he looked down at the bowl she held out to him, but didn’t take it from her. It made Belle smile sadly, to see him so unsure about her accepting his peace offering, and then offering to share it with him. He’d clearly expected her to react very differently to his return.

Meeting his eyes, or what she could see of them in the dim lighting, Belle brought the bowl to her lips and took a sip. He silently knelt down beside her, and her smile deepened as she swallowed the soup. It was warm and seasoned, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten something that had so much flavour to it.

Without a word, Rumplestiltskin cupped his hands underneath hers and brought the bowl to his own lips. He watched her over the brim as he tried the soup for himself, and then smiled at her as she pulled it away.

“It’s delicious,” she said, breaking their intimate silence. “Thank you.”

Wrinkling his nose, Rumplestiltskin smacked his lips and considered the taste of it for himself. She bit her lip, trying not to laugh at his little performance.

“I’ve had worse,” he allowed.

“ _You_ made it!”

“My magic made it.”

“So you admit that you’re separate,” she said quietly, and used the spoon this time to eat a proper mouthful of her late supper.

She could feel his eyes on her, but she didn’t dare look back up. Maybe she’d pushed him too soon. Knowing Rumplestiltskin, he’d probably been hoping she wouldn’t mention his magic, or the curse. _Or their kiss._

Eventually he sighed and turned away from her. Belle supposed he was going to return to his silent vigil at the entrance to their little hiding spot, and reached out to grab his hand.

“Wait,” she said, setting the soup bowl aside. “It’s cold in here.”

Turning to her expectantly, Rumplestiltskin tilted his head and frowned in an unspoken question. He didn’t understand her point, she realised.

“You can’t kneel over there all night. Stay here.” She hesitated, telling herself that the building warmth in her cheeks and chest was thanks to the soup, and nothing more. “With me.”

Before he had a chance to decline her very reasonable invitation to share her bed, Belle shuffled back into the blankets and lifted them up. He stared at her for just a moment longer, and hesitantly knelt back down.

A heavy silence followed as he removed his bulky leather jacket and waistcoat, and soon enough he was lying beside her.

Belle sighed. It should have comforted her to have Rumplestiltskin in her bed, but he'd left such a gap between them that she was surprised he managed to cover himself with any blanket at all.

"Rumple," she whispered. "I'm cold."

"Would you like a fire?"

"No." Belle reached out and lightly pressed her hand against his chest. "Just you."

Something in him seemed to shift when she said that. His chest relaxed, and Belle noticed just how tense he'd been under her touch. She scooted closer to him as he lifted his arm to welcome her embrace, and pressed herself into his side.

With a contented hum, Belle looked up at him and caught him watching her. His fingers danced and drew circles over her bare arm, and sent a pleasant shiver through her. She wondered if he realised he was doing it.

"This is nice," she said quietly, coaxing a little smile onto his face.

"Yes," he agreed. His quiet agreement filled Belle with the bravery she needed to push herself up and catch his lips with her own.

A buzz of magic tickled her skin, and Belle knew her kiss wouldn’t try to strip him of his curse this time. It was only supposed to be a quick, goodnight kiss, but as soon as she felt the softness and warmth of his mouth on hers, Belle didn't want to pull away. She didn't think she could even if she wanted to, when she felt his arm tighten around her waist, pinning her to his side.

With her heart pounding in her chest, she started to idly play with the front of his shirt. He didn't stop her, so she dared to pluck open one of his buttons. And then another, and another, until half his shirt hung open.

"I thought you were cold," he teased, breaking their lazy kiss with a smack of their lips.

"I'm warming up," Belle said with a grin.

His lips parted to say something, but Belle cut him off. She leaned back to pull her shift over her head and threw it to the side, shutting him up instantly. The cold of the cave pebbled her skin and breasts with goosebumps, but Belle didn't care. Just the thrill she felt when Rumplestiltskin’s eyes dropped to her chest was enough to make up for it.

Biting her lip, Belle lifted herself to straddle him and started to pull at his buttons again. Until he sat up. Their shift in position pressed his growing arousal against the inside of her legs and Belle gasped. She rocked her hips against him experimentally, drawing a rumbling growl from him in return. The feel of him, and the sounds he tried not to make as he buried his face into her neck, sent a shot of longing straight to her core.

He kissed his way down from her neck and collarbone, and Belle’s whole body trembled against him. She sucked in a sharp breath when his mouth found her breast. He circled her nipple with the tip of his tongue and took it into his mouth, coaxing a needy whimper from her that made her blush fiercely.

Rumplestiltskin pulled away, just as she tangled her hands into his hair, and looked up at her with a self-satisfied smirk.

 _Oh no_ , Belle thought, _two can play at that game._

Gently, she pressed her hand flat against his chest and pushed him onto his back. He went willingly, watching her with a curiosity that she knew all too well. They were still learning one another, and Belle was surprised at her own boldness with him.

She looked down at his chest, pushing his shirt aside, and wished they had more candles, or a roaring fire for her to see him better. She felt her way down his front, over what she could see of his chest. His scaled skin was softer than she'd imagined it would be, and the flickering candlelight shimmered over it.

"You don't have to," Rumplestiltskin said quietly.

She looked up to his concerned face, her fingertips wandering lower.

"I want to," Belle assured him, and felt the muscles in his stomach tighten as her hands brushed over them. “I’m happy you came back.”

“I thought you’d be unhappy.”

“No,” she said gently, “I’m not unhappy.”

Rumplestiltskin watched her with a look of fascination as she sat on top of him with her wandering hands. She smiled at him, and when he didn't stop her hands from reaching his pelvis, Belle slowly started to unlace the front of his trousers. Her hands shook with anticipation, but he said nothing and let her pull the leather apart over his hips.

It may have been frustratingly dark in that cave, but Belle could see enough to know that he desired her as much as she did him. A part of her thought about how uncomfortable it must have been for him to wear such tight leather, especially in the state he was in. The other part of her burned with a curiosity and need that Belle didn’t think she’d felt before. She ran her finger up the length of his exposed cock, the skin just as warm and soft as the rest of him, and took it into her hand.

“Belle,” he said, his voice rough. "Why?"

“I love you,” she told him breathlessly. They had True Love, and she was going to make sure he knew that. “I nearly broke your curse with love,” Belle reminded him, as she started to slowly stroke him, drawing a low moan from him that rumbled in his chest. “Don’t you want your happy ending?”

“There’s no such thing.” Rumplestiltskin rolled his hip into her waiting hand as she positioned herself over him. "Love is the real curse," he told her. "Love is weakness."

"No." She sank down onto him, and he groaned against her lips. "Love is power." And it was power, knowing that she could coax such a sound from the Dark One.

For a brief, blissful second, all Belle could hear over the rushing of the water, was their mingled, heavy breaths. Then her own gasp, as she rocked her hips against Rumplestiltskin's and slowly lifted herself up. She found a steady, achingly slow rhythm. He filled her so perfectly, more than she'd ever imagined in her dreams, that his absence was keenly felt every time she pushed herself back up his length.

"I've pictured this moment," Belle told him without thinking. He placed his hands on her hips, and the feel of his warm, scaled skin against her own flushed body sent a shiver through her.

"Tell me," he murmured. "Did you think of me in the Dark Castle?"

"Yes," she panted. "Every night, I--" He clawed his nails down her thighs and Belle cried out. Talking became almost impossible. She was shaking and dizzy with need for him, and the feeling of him between her legs was almost too much.

"Did you touch yourself?" He asked, and all she could do was nod. "Sweet, beautiful Belle," Rumplestiltskin cooed, smoothing his fingertips over where he'd scratched her. "My naughty little maid."

" _Yes_ ," she said breathlessly, and he thrust his hips up to meet hers, drawing another heady moan from her. “Rumple, I can’t...”

"Look at me," he urged, and she opened her eyes to watch him lying beneath her. Belle thought about how she must have looked to him. Her hair was probably a mess, after sleep and after he’d carded his fingers through it, but she didn’t care. He was looking at her with such awe, that much she could see from the little flame, that she felt beautiful. She ran her hands up over his chest, and used his shoulders as leverage to help her ride him faster.

Holding her gaze, Rumplestiltskin reached between their bodies and brushed his thumb lightly over her clit. It sent an immediate frisson of pleasure up her body and Belle hummed her approval. He did it again, a little more sure this time, in gradual, circular motions.

“Was it as good as this?” He teased.

“No,” Belle sighed. “This… is better.” She was too overwhelmed by the feeling of finally being with him to say more, but he didn’t seem to need more. Belle dropped her head to pepper kisses along Rumplestiltskin's cheek and down his jaw, and he tilted his head back, bucking his hips up into her again.

“ _Oh_ , _gods_ ,” she panted.

"Belle," Rumplestiltskin whispered. She whined at the sound of her name falling from his lips, and he mimicked her. The teasing, followed by his amused giggle, should have annoyed her, but instead the high-pitched keening in her ear had the opposite effect. Belle pressed her cheek against Rumplestiltskin's and gasped as the pressure between her legs burst through her body.

Trembling against him, she savoured the noise of his groan as he reached his own climax. She felt the warmth of his release inside her, while the pulses of her orgasm flowed through her and began to fade.

She collapsed onto him, her cheek resting on his chest where she could hear the hammering of his heart.

There were a number of things she wanted to say to him in that moment, and almost all of them included the word _love_. She wanted to say them, but the more she thought about it, the longer the peaceful silence stretched out between them. Belle drifted off into a contented sleep, still lying on top of him, without saying a word.


	4. The Lost Realm

By the time morning finally came, with the first rays of sunrise shimmering against the cave walls, Belle was alone in bed. She stretched out her limbs, that ached as a wonderful reminder of the night before, and rolled onto her back. To one side of the cave she heard a shuffling, and sighed with relief.

“What are you doing?” She asked, her eyes still closed.

“Looking,” Rumplestiltskin said. Belle could tell by his distant voice that he was too distracted by something to say anything else.

Rolling onto her stomach, she looked across to where he was crouched by her bag. It was a battered, blue thing she’d been carrying around with her for years, and he’d pulled her books from it.

“These are from the Dark Castle.”

“Yes,” Belle said quietly. “They would have gone to waste otherwise. If the dust didn’t get them, then the thieves would have.”

“So you were going on the run and decided to take half my library with you,” he concluded, and Belle didn’t need him to be facing her to know he was smiling.

“It’s hardly half the library,” she defended. “I’m glad I brought them. They helped a lot.”

They weren’t any of his precious magical books, or her favourite stories of fiction. After the curse had hit and she’d returned to his castle for the last time, Belle had taken the most practical books from his library. There were a couple on herbology; what plants could and couldn’t be eaten, and which plants could be used to make medicines. They were the reason for the dozen or so glass vials he’d pulled from the bag and left by his feet. She’d become good at making medicine. Then there were her hunting and tracking books, one of which Rumplestiltskin was flicking through carefully.

He looked at her over his shoulder, with an amused smile on his face, but it faltered when he saw her. She didn’t know what he’d been expecting to see, but it clearly hadn’t been her still lying in bed, naked. He quickly looked back down, making her smile.

“What’s this?” Rumplestiltskin asked, pulling a bundle of faded-gold cloth from the bag. Belle’s heart skipped and she jumped up to take it from him before he could unravel it.

That’s what she intended to do, anyway. What she actually did was stumble over her blankets as she tried to get up, and Rumplestiltskin opened the little bundle as she fell to her knees.

“Oh,” he whispered.

Trying to untangle herself from her own blankets, Belle wrapped one around her chest and straightened up. It was too late. He sat down on the rocks, the little chipped cup in his hand, and looked up at her. Her nakedness didn’t matter to him anymore, as their eyes met. “You still have it.”

“It’s the only thing I took from the castle that wasn’t practical,” she said. He hadn’t asked for a reason, but standing before him in just a blanket, after what they’d done the night before and with him holding their cup, Belle suddenly felt very vulnerable. What if he disappeared again?

“I see.” Rumplestiltskin’s voice shook slightly, as he looked down at the fragile thing and wrapped it back up. “I lost mine.”

His admission did a great deal to ease her nerves, but whilst her vulnerability ebbed away, she suddenly realised just how small he must have felt with her standing over him. She knelt by his side, still holding her blanket up with one hand, and took the golden bundle from him with the other.

“Was your realm very different from this one?” she asked, setting it down beside her books.

“Yes and no,” he said. She turned back to him and found him watching her with earnest eyes, leaning towards her. “It’s funny how one little dark curse not being cast can change so much.”

His hand flitted through the air as he spoke, and Belle reached out to hold it.

“What realm are you from?” She’d asked him that the day before, but he’d refused her a proper answer. This time, she hoped, he’d trust her enough to tell her. He stared at her, and their joined hands, then threaded his fingers through hers.

“They called it the Wish Realm,” Rumplestiltskin said. It made her falter, and he noticed her little gasp. He was about to pull his hand away, but Belle held him tighter and shook her head.

“The other night,” she hurriedly tried to explain, “I wished for you to be here.” Maybe that was why he’d appeared? By some sheer fluke, or fate, Belle had wished for Rumplestiltskin at just the right moment; the moment this Rumplestiltskin from the Wish Realm died. Her hand tightened on his again, and he brushed his thumb against hers. “So… What realm is this?”

He didn’t answer immediately, but she could tell he was thinking about her question. He had a little frown on his face as he picked the golden cloth back up, and played with the frayed edge.

“Let's call it the Lost Realm,” Rumplestiltskin decided, making her frown. “Or Otherland?”

“We're lost?”

“Well, Regina won. Her curse was never broken,” he said, and started to put her things back into her bag. “And anyone left behind was forgotten about. Lost to a fate worse than time and death.”

“This is _worse_?” Belle regretted asking.

“You remember the people you lost. But they don’t remember you,” he pointed out carefully, and gave her another tilt of his head. “If they still exist.”

For the first few years after her failed rescue attempts, and even after the curse had taken him away, Belle imagined what it would be like to see him again. Nothing she'd pictured could prepare her for what was actually happening. They'd both been changed by their time apart in different realms, but she could still see something of the old Rumplestiltskin hidden in there.

“I remember you,” she said, and watched as he withdrew from her. Pulling their hands apart, he put her bag to the side and stood up with a little jump. He was trying to slip back into his impish mask, she knew, but all Belle could think about was what must have happened to him to make him so reluctant to open up.

“Yes,” he said lightly, stepping over the blanket that trailed behind her feet.

“And you lost me,” Belle pointed out, trying to bring him back.

It didn’t work. He turned to her with an irritated smile, and twirled his hand towards the waterfall. It parted through the middle, letting Belle get a full view of the forest beyond. It was her favourite time of day. She could feel the crisp, cool air even from inside the cave, and a mist had settled around the trees, giving the whole forest a surreal, blue glow. Wherever Rumplestiltskin was going, she wanted to go with him.

“Give me a moment,” she said, turning to grab her clothes strewn across the floor. They were muddy, she suddenly remembered, but it was quicker to slip on her red and gold outfit than to pick out fresh clothes from her bag.

“No need,” Rumplestiltskin said with a dismissive wave of his hand. She knew he was going to turn her down, but that didn’t make his rejection hurt any less.

“I want to go with you,” Belle insisted, but when she looked back at him, it wasn’t rejection or annoyance on his face. It was a calm, controlled mask of nothing. He wasn’t trying to get away from her because he felt nothing, he was doing it because he felt too much. “Where _are_ you going?”

“For a walk,” he said, and Belle arched an eyebrow at him. “You need breakfast.” Her stomach growled at the reminder. She hadn’t even finished her soup the night before, and now the bowl had disappeared, along with the candle.

“Then I’m _definitely_ going with you,” she said. “I’m not letting you walk out there alone. What if you’re spotted?” He didn’t object for a second time, and Belle busied herself with trying to pull on her clothes whilst still holding up her blanket. It was almost impossible, but then she felt a whirl of magic dance around her, and suddenly she was fully dressed.

Letting go of her blanket, Belle looked down at herself in surprise. Her red and gold clothes were in a neatly folded pile beside her bag, and in their place she wore a similar outfit of pale blue and warm brown. The colours were reminiscent of the dress she’d worn in the Dark Castle, and Belle broke out into a bright smile when she realised that. He’d remembered. Being from different realms didn’t matter, not when they clearly had so many shared memories.

“Rumple, this is perfect.” She beamed at him, reaching up to find that even her hair had changed. His magic had weaved it into a neat plait over her shoulder, and tied it with a blue ribbon. “Thank you!”

He didn’t know what to do with her thanks, she could tell. Dropping his hands, he gave her a little bow of his head, and flicked his wrist towards the waterfall.

“Shall we?”

He offered her his hand as they left the safety of the cave and pushed their way through the river. When they reached the bank, climbing up onto the springy, moss-filled grass, Belle was surprised to feel her clothes were already dry. She cast a glance across to Rumplestiltskin, but he wasn’t looking at her, and he showed no signs of having knowingly used magic on her again. She wished he wouldn’t keep using magic so casually just for her.

“It’s nice to be outside,” she said, distracting both herself and him from their worries. “Don’t you think?”

With a noncommittal grunt, Rumple looked around the forest as they walked side-by-side. Usually, when she was alone, she’d have been setting traps, or planning a trip into the village if she had enough coins. Food was normally a day-by-day thing for Belle, and she had no idea what Rumple had in mind when he said she needed breakfast. Knowing him, though, it would include magic.

“Are we going to the village?” Belle asked, and he glanced at her sideways. “For breakfast.”

“Is that what you normally do?”

“Sometimes,” she said with a nod, realising that he hadn’t had anything planned at all. His one plan had been to escape from the cave, and she’d foiled that. Belle didn’t feel bad about it. She wasn’t going to let him run away from her just because he didn’t know what to do with their feelings.

They came to a rocky stream, and Belle stopped to watch the rushing water as it gurgled through the moss-covered rocks. The forest was so beautiful in the early morning, it saddened her to think about who ruled over it. She’d love to take a stroll through the trees with Rumple, without the little voice in the back of her mind reminding her that they’d been forced into hiding.

“Belle?” Rumple interrupted her thoughts, and she looked across to him to see him standing at the end of a rickety, wooden bridge. The planks of wood were worn and twisted, without any sort of banister or rope to hold onto, but it looked to be their only way across.

With Rumplestiltskin’s hand on the small of her back, Belle stepped up onto the bridge and carefully skipped across. The wood creaked so loudly under her feet, that she braced herself for it to snap, throwing her into the water, but it didn’t. Her feet found solid ground, and she turned to reach out for Rumple as he followed behind her. He looked confused when she took his hand to help him down, but he didn’t pull away, and they carried on their walk to the village with his hand in hers.

Letting him lead the way, Belle tried to enjoy the moment as best as she could. She walked close to him, the feel of his warm hand in hers an anchor and reassurance that he really was there. He wouldn’t just leave her again, and she wouldn’t let him go again.

“I’ll wait here,” he stopped abruptly, making her falter, and released her hand.

“You don’t want to come with me?” she asked with a sinking feeling in her chest. There must have been something about the tone of her voice that gave away her fears, because he finally looked at her. His lips flattened into a line, Rumple tilted his head and gave her a concerned little frown. He hadn’t meant to worry her, she realised.

“I can’t go into the village,” he said gently. “Not like this.”  _This_ meaning his face, Belle presumed. She stupidly hadn’t thought about that, but he’d still walked her most of the way, and she felt confident enough that he wouldn’t disappear while she was off bartering for a loaf of bread.

“Alright.” She nodded weakly and took a step back. “Stay right there.”

“Of course.”

“I won’t be long,” Belle promised. She’d barely taken more than five steps away from him when something pulled her attention away. There was a faint rumbling, almost like distant thunder, coming from deeper in the woods. It was soon joined by the cry of a voice, barking out an order.

_Red Knights._

A small group of them, led by their Captain - _Captain Herz_ , she’d overheard a villager once mutter - marched through the woods towards the village. There was no time to run away. They were so close that they’d definitely be spotted, and Belle refused to give Rumple chance to use any more magic.

She could only think of one thing to do.

She dived at him and pushed him to the forest floor. The fall knocked the wind out of both of them, but Belle had the fortune of landing on top of him. She winced when she thought about his poor back.

“Sorry,” she whispered, brushing her hair from out of his face. He gave her an awkward little nod, making her smile, and she noted his hands resting lightly on her hips.

Now was not the time to let him distract her. Belle had to remind herself of that, but she couldn’t help it that her breath had started to quicken, or that the everpresent cloud of magic around him felt like it was seeping into her skin.

That little speck of darkness she’d created in her own heart was stirring, as she looked down into Rumplestiltskin’s impossibly large eyes. The darkness sat heavy inside her, and the pounding of her heart made it feel like thunder rumbling in her chest. The lightning came when Rumple reached up to touch her cheek, and she felt a spark of magic pass between them; snapping her out of the trance his eyes had pulled her into. She looked away.

They were hidden in a ditch that had likely once been a stream, just behind a narrow, fallen tree. It wasn’t the best hiding place, but it would have to do. To her left, the horses thundered through the trees. The ground rumbled underneath them, against her palms as she lifted herself to see over the log.

“Wait.” Rumple grasped her shoulders and pulled her back down, squashing her chest against his. “Wait until they’re gone,” he reprimanded.

She looked down at him again, and saw the same sternness on his face, but it melted away as soon as their eyes met.

“Do you think they’re leaving?” Belle asked softly.

“They’ll need to search the next villages,” he explained. “But we should still be careful.”

“Right.”

“Yes.”

“Should we go back to our cave?”

Rumplestiltskin thought about it for a second, listening as the thumping march of the knights drifted further away. “Once they’re gone.”

It must have only been a matter of seconds, perhaps a minute, before the knights had past into the village, but Rumple and Belle stayed where they were. The forest was silent when he finally took his hands off her, and Belle pushed herself off him. Neither of them said anything. She dusted leaves and twigs from her new trousers, and stepped out of his way as he stiffly got to his feet.

“We’ll have to try again later,” she said, trying to break the tension between them.

“There are other ways of getting food,” he reminded with a wave of his hand as she turned to look at him.

“Magic,” she concluded. Stepping up to him, she gently pulled a leaf from his hair, and tried to ignore the way he looked at her. “What’s the price for that?”

“What?”

“You always used to say that magic came with a price,” Belle reminded. “What’s the price for food?” She asked again. “Or these clothes?”

“Don’t worry about that.” Rumple flicked his wrist as if to shoo away her question and offered her his other hand, but she did worry. “I’ll pay it... For you.”


	5. Foolish Things

Early morning walks became routine for them, after the knights had left. They’d find somewhere to sit, where they could still see their waterfall, and Rumplestiltskin would conjure up food; _whatever food she desired for breakfast_ , he’d insisted. On the third morning, he’d even pulled a book from thin air and let her sit reading for over an hour, on condition that she read out loud, of course. It had been so long since she’d read a work of fiction, and Belle had loved indulging in her old passion. She happily read page after page out loud to him, as the characters slowly fell in love.

The next morning, they spent at least an hour simply walking together through the woods, before they found a fallen log beside their river. Belle liked the idea of calling it _their_ river, since it did fall over their cave, and she was certain she’d forever associate the sound of rushing water with the nights they spent together.

At some point during their talk, Rumplestiltskin had slipped from the log and onto the ground. He sat in a patch of dewy grass, and she supposed it was thanks to the leather trousers that he didn’t seem to notice. He kept asking her questions about her realm, and the long thirty years she’d been without him - or a version of him - but he never gave her room to ask her own questions.

“And then I stole his bread,” Belle concluded her story. “Every day for a week.”

Rumplestiltskin laughed and tipped his head back to look at her. It was harder to read his expression like that, but through the amusement, she could see a faint and curious frown.

“How devious.”

“He was a baker!” she reminded, trying not to smile. “He had plenty of bread and rolls left to sell.”

“And you were desperate.” He was still staring at her upside down as he spoke, and Belle felt the sudden urge to touch his hair.

“I was,” she agreed, reaching out to brush her fingers through his curls. It seemed to make him even more curious about something, but he didn’t pull away. “What is it?”

“You don’t have to live like that now,” he told her, and she knew that wasn’t really what he was thinking.

“I do,” she said. “Where else can I go?”

Spinning around, Rumple pushed himself onto his knees and faced her, that same little frown on his face.

“You could ask for anything,” he pointed out. “Anything your heart desires.” He fluttered his fingers over his chest and tilted his head. “We could go back to the Dark Castle. Or find a new castle. I could give you better clothes, or more books.”

“No,” Belle said firmly. “You could, but I don’t want them.”

“Why not?”

“I can get by just fine without finery or a huge castle.” She paused. “Books would be nice, but that’s not why I want you here.”

“What?”

“That’s why you’re offering me all those nice things, isn’t it?” Belle asked, and Rumplestiltskin narrowed his eyes and leaned back, as if he couldn’t believe she’d caught him. “I want you here because I want _you_. Not your magic.”

“And what about breakfast?” he asked. When they’d first found a spot to sit, beside the river and under a huge oak tree, Rumple had conjured a breakfast of berries, freshly baked buns, and jam and butter. Him bringing it up now, in this context, made the gesture feel less sweet.

Taking hold of his hand, Belle turned it palm-upward and looked down at it. The grey-gold skin was paler, without scales, and she could almost see the normal man underneath. He watched her as she began to draw little patterns across his palm with her fingertip, tracing out the lines of his hand. Belle could remember her mother doing that when she was small. The simple gesture had been both ticklish and comforting, and had always managed to calm her down.

She looked up, as she traced the outline of a heart, and found him staring at her.

“Breakfast was lovely,” she said with a small smile. “Really. But you didn’t have to do that. I don’t expect anything from you, Rumplestiltskin.” Her hand curled around his, and she pulled it to her chest. “I only want you to be you.”

Even after saying all of that, and giving his hand a squeeze, Rumplestiltskin still didn’t look convinced. Belle let go of him with a sigh, letting his hand slip from hers.

“If you really want to give me something,” Belle compromised, “Then make it breakfast. I’d like to come out here every morning. With you.” She looked at him and smiled. He smiled back, his arms held in front of his chest like a shield, and nodded.

She thought, not for the first time, about how unused to any sort of contact he must have been. Belle herself had spent twenty-eight years in hiding, usually somewhere in the Enchanted Forest, but that wasn't comparable to twenty-eight years in a dark, lonely dungeon. She'd been able to break her solitude whenever she wanted, by going into villages to barter, or going to taverns if she had enough coin for a drink. Even when she talked to no one, she was around people. Rumplestiltskin hadn't had even that.

It was a horrible thought. It left Belle with a deep, sinking feeling in her stomach, thinking about him locked up and alone. She thought about him in the Dark Castle, and the man she'd seen in fleeting moments of kindness. She remembered him mentioning his son.

"What about you?" she prompted, and he sat back on the ground, sinking away from her. "What have you been doing since you were freed?" Belle tried to smile, to focus on the fact that he _was_ free, and wouldn't have to be locked up again. But he didn't answer, and her smile weakened. "Did you find your son?"

“No,” he answered quickly. Belle could tell the subject was closed.

“The curse took my father,” she said, and his sudden vehemence faded as he leaned back towards her. “He was the only family I had left.”

A silence settled between them, one that was only filled by the rushing water of the river. She looked out towards their waterfall, to the wild flowers and moss growing in the rocks beside it, and the old, hollow tree that had fallen across the water. It was so peaceful, it was hard to believe they were having to hide, or that the realm was an unknown, forgotten one.

Resting his hand over hers, Rumplestiltskin pulled her mind back to the present, and Belle turned to him with a small, grateful smile. He tried to smile back, but it was thin and uncomfortable.

“He died,” he confided. “Before I had a chance to find him.”

That was even _worse_ than him being imprisoned, alone. Knowing that his son had been out there, and he’d missed his chance to find him, made Belle’s heart ache. A little lump rose in her throat, as she lifted his hand and kissed it. She gave him a silent promise then, that neither of them would have to be alone again. It wouldn’t bring back his son, or tell her what had happened to her father, but Belle was happy just to have Rumplestiltskin back.

“I wish I could tell you what happened to him in this world,” she said, making his lips quirk up into an oddly amused smile. It was another mask.

“Careful, dearie,” he warned. “Your wishes are very powerful things.” Pulling his hands away from her, he swept them in front of himself and smiled.

“I don’t regret wishing for you,” Belle said, unable to hold back her own smile. “And I wouldn’t regret this wish, either.” His carefully crafted mask slipped, for just a second, when his smile twitched and he searched her face. He clearly hadn’t been expecting such sincerity, but of course she’d wish for him to be reunited with his son, just like she’d wished for herself to be reunited with him.

Rumple looked as if he wanted to add something, or kiss her. He was already leaning towards her, lips parted, but then the moment passed. He looked away from her, uncertain, and Belle sighed.

“We should go back to the cave,” she said dejectedly, standing up, and Rumple quickly followed her lead.

Being outside in the forest was wonderful, with the bright colours of the grass and trees, and the little patches of violets and bluebells growing around where they sat, but it was time to go back inside. They hadn’t seen any knights, or heard anything beyond the movement of animals but Belle didn’t want to push their luck, and being outside suddenly made her feel very exposed.

They walked in silence back to the cave entrance. Rumplestiltskin offered her his hand to help her through the river, and she accepted it with a smile, saying nothing when he inevitably had to use magic to still the waterfall for them to step inside.

It became their routine for the rest of the week. Every night he’d join her under her blankets. In the morning, they would step out into the early light of sunrise and eat breakfast together.

It was a couple of days into their time together that Rumplestiltskin made his first deal. Very quickly he started to build up a new collection of objects. At least this time she didn’t have to clean them all. The back of their cave was no longer dark at night. It glowed with the magic of the new trinkets he’d procured, then hoarded away in their cave. He was turning into a dragon, Belle had teased, but she had no objections to him making deals. Just as long as he came back to her, and he did.

“What do you want with a wooden box?” Belle asked on their ninth night of living in that cave, as Rumplestiltskin parted the waterfall and stepped inside. He handed it to her, just like he used to when he returned to the Dark Castle and expected her to clean something, and grinned.

“It’s not about the box, my dear,” he answered. “It’s about what’s inside.” Belle started to lift the lid on the little, cube-shaped box, when he snapped it back down. “It’s probably best if you don’t. Find a place for it with the rest.” Knowing that he trusted her to handle any of the things he’d dealt for, Belle didn’t protest at being told to add anything to his growing collection. It wasn’t about him giving her orders anymore, she knew that, it was his way of getting her involved in his dealings without actually admitting that he wanted her to be involved.

She placed the little box on a ledge, between a sparkling diamond necklace and an old shoe. Belle’s curiosity ran unchecked whenever he brought something new back, and she was given a chance to look amongst his modest collection.

“What do you need all of these things for?” She asked, turning back to face him. He was in the middle of lighting the candle beside their bed, and looked up to her with a wicked smile.

“It’s magic,” he said. “We might need them to defeat the Queen.”

“What?” Belle was glad she’d already put the box down, she would have dropped it if she’d been holding it. “You want to… Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Standing up, Rumple shrugged off his coat and lay it across her bag. “She’s after us. We should go after her.”

“We can’t.”

“Whyever not?” He wrinkled his nose.

“ _Because_.” Belle rung her hands together and stepped closer to the bed. She’d already been dressed and ready for sleep for some time before Rumplestiltskin’s return, but she still felt like she should have been doing something. She knelt down on the blankets and fussed at the pillow; fluffing them and straightening them, until she felt his hand on her bare shoulder.

“Belle?” His voice was so quiet, so unsure, that she froze and looked up at him.

“I can’t,” she amended, letting her pillow drop into her lap. “Something would go wrong.”

Lowering himself beside her, Rumple put the pillow back and knelt down. He still moved so carefully, in that way that he hadn’t before, that was a constant reminder he wasn’t the Rumplestiltskin from her realm. It was almost predatory, the way he prowled around and sat down; his wide eyes never leaving hers. But it was still a comfort to have him there, and Belle shuffled closer to him.

“Any time I try to be brave, and do the right thing,” she tried again, “it goes wrong.”

He clearly didn’t know what to say to her, and she didn’t mind. It felt good just to get the words out, and even better when it was sympathy that she saw on his face instead of the disgust she was fearing. Silently, he leaned back against the cave wall and held out his arms for her to join him. Belle immediately crawled forward and sat with her back against his chest. His arms encircled her, and as she settled back against his firm body, he took her hand and turned it palm-upwards.

“You saved your people,” he told her in a low murmur against her ear. “That was the same in both our realms.” As he spoke, his breath tickled her hair against her neck, and he started to draw shapes across her hand. His long claw lightly scratched across her skin, but it didn’t hurt. It sent a shudder through her that she was sure he felt with her body pressed against his.

“That was your idea,” she said quietly, watching his finger dancing across her palm. “And you stopped the ogres.”

“You could have said no.” His hand moved underneath hers and he linked their fingers together. “You took that deal because I promised to keep everyone safe.” He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, and Belle pressed her cheek against the side of his head.

“Rumple...”

“Belle,” he whispered back, lifting his head to brush his nose against her temple. “Do the brave thing.”

Belle’s breath caught when he whispered that in her ear, and she turned as much as she could in that position, to see his face.

“You remembered,” she whispered back. He frowned, in an expression that Belle could only describe as _‘of course I remembered’_ , and gave her a single nod.

“Not many people would share a cave with the Dark One,” Rumple continued, adjusting his arms around her so she could see him better. “Or a bed.”

“That’s not bravery,” she denied, lifting her hand to stroke his cheek. “That’s love.”

“Love makes us all do foolish things. Just like bravery.”

“So you think it’s foolish to go after the Queen now,” Belle said, making him frown. “Well, I’m glad we agree.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You don’t say a lot of things,” she sighed and pulled herself out of his embrace. She felt colder for it, but she was beginning to feel the tug of sleep, and if they carried on their conversation, they’d only end up exposing more of Belle’s misgivings.

Lying down with her back to him, Belle tugged the blankets up to her shoulders and closed her eyes. She heard the shuffling of silk and leather behind her, and a moment later Rumple’s bare arms wound around her waist. She wriggled backwards and pressed herself flush against him. It didn’t take her long to warm up after that, and she settled down as his hand traced patterns across her stomach.

He'd been the same with her all of their other nights together. He was gentle, and he held her now that he knew she welcomed his embraces, but he'd never take it further. Not unless Belle made it clear that's what she wanted. It would have been sweet, if she hadn't wanted him to take some initiative and show when he wanted her, too. She _knew_ he did, and knowing she could effect the Dark One like that really wasn't good for someone who'd darkened their heart and was trying not to do it again. But there was still a part of her that wanted him to draw her in, to show her his darkness and desire for her.

Rumplestiltskin was like walking temptation.

He must have thought she'd fallen asleep, because a few minutes into her wandering thoughts he kissed the top of her head, and whispered the words Belle thought she'd never get to hear.

"I love you, too."


	6. The Queen's Reward

Their time together in the Enchanted Forest seemed a blur, like an incredible dream she would soon wake up from. It was already more than a fortnight since Belle had found Rumplestiltskin again, or a version of him, and their days had settled into a familiar rhythm, just like they had in the Dark Castle.

After breakfast in bed that morning, he’d told her about another deal he had to make. She had no idea who was calling upon the Dark One, but word had spread quickly of his return, and the Red Knights were being sent all over the forest again to investigate. Their presence wasn’t enough to stop Belle from venturing into the woods alone anymore; not when she knew she had Rumple’s protection, and she was becoming comfortable in the knowledge that he _would_ return to her.

As lovely as it was to have him doting on her with breakfast, and he’d repaired all of her clothes, Belle couldn’t allow him to keep using his magic. That was why that morning she’d insisted on going into the village to get some magic-free food. The kind that she only had to pay for with money, and nothing else.

It was cold that morning, and for once Belle didn’t mind having to wear her hood as she walked through the marketplace. It was a brown, modest one Rumple had created for her, and it covered just enough of her face without stopping her from being able to see everyone around her. Most people weren’t paying attention to her as they went about their business; buying and selling, setting up their stalls, shouting to one another and gossiping in worried tones. It wasn’t the knights the people feared that morning; it was talk of a wolf sighted on the edge of the village.

Belle felt invisible, and that was exactly how she liked it.

She had just enough silver coins to buy a fresh loaf of bread, some cheeses, a fish for later, and a still-warm cake for Rumplestiltskin’s sweet tooth. She bought everything quickly, piled it into a little basket she’d brought with her, and turned to leave when a bright, colourful stall caught her eye. After several trips into the village on market day, Belle was certain this one had never been there before. The wooden tables were piled high with vibrant fabrics of all colours and patterns, set out under shelves full of thread and ribbons and yarn.

Drifting towards it, Belle ran her hand over the soft cottons, smooth silks, and fluffy wools. It almost made her regret spending what little money she had left on food, after a particularly nice floral fabric in a light, sky blue caught her eye. She sighed ruefully as she smoothed her hand over it, remembering a time that she would have been more than happy to have a new dress made. The only one she’d taken to the Dark Castle had been so impractical, she’d loved designing her little blue one with Rumplestiltskin’s help.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” The sudden voice made her jump, and she pulled her hand away from the displayed cloth as if it had scolded her. The man - tall, young, and in a dark suit as elaborate as the material he was selling - gave her an amused smile as he stepped from behind a display stand.

“Do you like the blue?” he asked, and Belle could only bring herself to nod. “A blue that pale would go lovely with white, I think. Something simple, so not to distract from the beauty.”

Her heart started to beat faster, and he gave her a knowing smile that made her take a step back.

“Yes,” Belle said quietly. “I’m sure you’re right.”

“Oh, I know I’m right.” He nodded confidently. “You see, I know fabrics and tailoring. Your outfit, for example,” he gestured towards her with both hands, “why, it’s so expertly made, I can hardly see the seams.”

“Oh, really?” she asked, trying for an air of calm that she really didn’t feel. “That’s… good?”

“Not if you’re trying to hide your association with magic,” he said lowly. Her heartbeat started to hammer in her ears, and she was about to run when he held up his hand, asking her to stop. “Not everyone here is bad. Likewise, not everyone bad is here.”

Belle stared at him. “What?”

He smiled at her, as if she’d told him a mildly amusing joke, and turned back to his stall.

“I used to know a man,” he began, sorting through a box of ribbons, “who would call upon me sometimes, and ask for me to… find him things. Precious things. Magical things. I’m sure you can use your imagination. In exchange, he’d give me as much gold as I thought the thing was worth.”

“How do you determine how much a thing is worth?” Belle asked as she watched him pull a long, deep blue ribbon from the box. Something yellow was woven into the thin strip of fabric, that glinted in the light as he pulled it free of the other ribbons.

“That’s the thing, isn’t it? How do you price a thing?” He held out his hand and, curious, Belle gave him her own. “Usually, I’d take as much gold as I wanted. He had plenty to spare.”

Effortlessly, as if he’d done it many times before, the man wrapped the ribbon around her wrist and tied it into a bow. She brought it to her face, inspecting the beautiful gold that was woven in neat swirls across the blue, like the glinting of stars against the night sky. Her breath caught when she realised exactly what it was she was looking at, and why the gold thread twinkled and danced as she moved her wrist.

“Obviously, I took so much gold that I hardly had time to spend it all,” the man finished, drawing Belle’s attention back up to him. Both of them knew Rumplestiltskin, and this man had somehow worked that out just from how he’d made her clothes.

“We’re both allies, wanted by the Queen,” he whispered. “Tell him that. When you see him next.” He smiled. “I’m sure it’ll be soon.”

Belle nodded, watching him and playing with the ribbon around her wrist, before she realised she should probably say something.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Oh, we shouldn’t use real names here,” he said. “Code names are better. They won’t know us that way.”

“Then what do I tell him?”

A slow smile broke out on the man’s face, and he offered her his hand again, this time for a handshake.

“Call me Hatter,” he answered as she shook his hand, and gave her a low bow of his head. “And I’ll call you Beauty.”

Belle froze, but he released her hand and turned back to his stall as if the nickname was nothing. It took Hatter a moment to realise she was still there, and staring at him, before he hit his hand to his forehead and laughed.

“Right!” he said loudly, making her jump. “Yes. _Sorry_! You’d have to go to another realm to get that one.”

“Maybe I should pick my name,” she said, and he frowned as if giving her suggestion great thought, before nodding and waiting for her to carry on. Belle glanced around the market, trying to think of something that wasn’t too obviously her. She didn’t have a job she could name herself after like the Hatter, a childhood nickname, or any distinct features to name herself after. _Other than Beauty_ , a voice that sounded too much like Rumple’s reminded her, and she started to blush.

An image of Rumple stood before her in the Dark Castle came to mind, when he’d first given her a gift and they’d bowed and smiled at one another.

“Rose,” Belle said at last.

“Rose,” Hatter repeated, mulling the word over with another frown. Then he smiled and gave a nod of approval. “Rose it is! Next time we meet, we’ll have to find a name for him, Rose.”

Belle smiled back, slowly starting to warm to the Hatter, and let him wave her on her way. It wasn’t until she was walking back into the woods, happily swinging her little basket by her side and smiling to herself, that Belle realised what a relief it was that at least they had one ally. She was certain Rumplestiltskin would bring up his plans for the Queen again, and the knowledge that someone else in the Enchanted Forest wanted that to happen, too, filled her with a sense of calm. She felt like everything would be okay.

But this was the Enchanted Forest - Cora’s Enchanted Forest - and things could never stay calm for long.

Rain began to patter around her as she made it to the riverbank near their cave, and a hand grasped her upper arm, yanking her from the water. She knew without looking that it wasn’t Rumple. He may have tried to scare her with empty threats, but he’d never be so rough with her.

Her fears were confirmed when she looked up and saw the pale, long face of a dark-haired man staring down at her. Belle opened her mouth to scream, but it was quickly covered by his rough, gauntleted hand. The metal edge dug into her cheek, and she struggled to breath as she was dragged backwards.

“Found her, captain!” The dark-haired man shouted. Belle tried to pull his grip away from her face but he didn’t budge. His grasp on her was too strong, and soon enough she was pulled before a man on a horse. The only one of the knights who hadn’t dismounted.

Her captor threw her to her knees, and when Belle looked up she recognised the horsed man as the Captain of the Red Knights. He was a tall, unnaturally thin man, with greying hair and blue eyes that lazily appraised her up and down.

Belle’s worry started to churn in her stomach, she felt sick, and she opened her mouth again to shout but the dark-haired man’s hand stopped her.

“Rook, that’s enough,” the Captain said, without looking at either of them, and nodded to another knight. “There’s no need to be so rough.”

There was a struggle behind her. Something was dragged through the dead sticks and leaves of the forest floor, and a man in a tattered tunic was dumped beside her. His clothes were covered in soot and mud, but she was sure his tunic had once been white. The rain was turning the ground to mud, and it clung to the man’s clothes and sunk into her knees.

His eyes widened, bloodshot, but Belle couldn’t tell if he was afraid of the knights or of her.

“Take your hand away. I want to hear what she has to say.”

“But, captain, what if she calls for… _him_?”

“Oh, there’s no need to be afraid. I think we can trust the little maid,” the captain said with a slimy grin. Belle wanted to knock it off his face. He looked down at her with leering eyes when Rook took his hand from her mouth, and Belle had to bite her tongue to stop herself from calling out.

“I’m Captain Herz, a Red Knight,” he told her proudly, with a bravado that reminded her too much of Gaston, and nodded down to the fallen man beside her. “And this here is Sir Weland, he fought for Snow White. I believe you’ve met before?”

Belle looked back at the man, Weland, and although he seemed to recognise her, she was sure she’d never seen his face before.

“Now,” Captain Herz said, prompting both of them to look up at him. "Is this the one we’ve been searching for?"

Belle’s heart sank.

“Y-yes,” Weland ground out. His voice sounded husky from disuse, but it was loud enough for the whole group to hear. She closed her eyes and tried to swallow the lump that rose in her throat. She’d be okay. She just had to keep telling herself that. As soon as she had the chance, she’d call out for Rumplestiltskin and he’d come to help her.

“Excellent!” Captain Herz beamed at them. He gave another nod to his knights and held out his hands.

One of the knights pulled Weland to his feet, which slipped in the wet leaves, and cut the rope tied around his wrists. The White Knight said something, but he spoke so quickly he tripped over his own words, and Belle could hardly make out what he was trying to say over the growing rain. She thought it sounded like he was thanking them.

With a rough shove the knight sent Weland on his way, running into the woods. Another knight pulled off her helmet, and set a bow and arrow into the Captain’s outstretched hands.

“Captain,” she said.

“Thank you, Bishop. I’ll soon make him stop.” He lined up the shot with expert ease, and before Belle could even think to cry out, the arrow was loosed and something solid _thumped_ to the floor behind her.

“Such a shame,” Herz sighed airily, and handed the bow back to his knight. She took it silently and cast Belle a fierce glance. “Though he only has himself to blame.” Herz dismounted from his horse, his shining armour glittering with raindrops, and strolled across to Belle as if he had all the time in the world. She tried to stand, but Rook placed a hand firmly on her shoulder and kept her on her knees in the mud.

“If you have the time, and don’t mind if I speak in rhyme,” he said with a cold smile, “I want to talk to you about your master, the imp, and of no detail should you skimp.”

“He’s _not_ my master,” Belle snapped. She’d read stories about the land and peoples of Wonderland. A whole group of them had come across with the Queen of Hearts, for the promises of lands and titles and wealth. All of which were taken from the allies of Snow White’s and anyone that had disappeared with Regina’s curse.

“Is that so? That’s not what I hear.” He shook his head thoughtfully. “But we’ve heard all sorts of things, my dear.” Something about her expression must have looked shocked, because Herz laughed and looked around to the rest of his knights. They laughed with him, all but the one he’d called Bishop, and Belle suddenly felt a lot smaller.

"What do you mean?"

"They say you hold the Dark One's heart," Herz answered, his lips curling in distaste. "But for many years now you've been apart." Belle pressed her lips together and stared up at him. She wouldn’t let him see that her heart just dropped, or that she was hurt to hear other people had been talking about her relationship with Rumple. Their separation wasn’t anyone else’s business. She looked down at the ground, at the puddles filling the dirt, and her hair clung to her cheek.

Rook pulled her head back a second later, his fist caught in her hair. The Captain must have misunderstood her silent defiance, because his grimace turned into a pleased grin and he leaned towards her secretively.

“How do you feel about the promise of gold?” he asked. “Could I tempt you to betrayal for fortunes untold?”

“The Dark One spins his own gold,” Belle reminded flatly.

“Well, that’s no bother.” He shrugged. “The Queen does have another offer.”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“But hear it, you shall.” For just a moment, Belle caught a glimpse of the real man underneath the false cheer. He cleared his throat and smiled again. “He has a dagger, the source of his power. Bring it to us, at the Western Tower.” Herz pointed behind himself, towards the Queen’s castle. “The Dark One shall be enthralled, and you'll get something far better than riches and gold.”

“ _No_!” Belle tried to shrug Rook’s hand off her shoulder. “I wouldn’t ever do that to him.”

“Don’t be so quick to defend your lord,” he tutted. “Just wait until you hear the Queen’s reward.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Wish!Rumple's story during this chapter, I've written an extra chapter called [Under Dark Skies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15733887).


	7. Temptation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the people that asked about Wish!Rumple getting a POV chapter: I wrote an extra chapter called [Under Dark Skies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15733887), that shows his POV leading directly up to the beginning of this chapter.

She couldn't move. The world swam back into focus from a blinding light into a swirl of bright colours. Her eyes fluttered open, and for the first time Belle realised she was lying on the forest floor, staring up at the canopy and the sky beyond. The rain had stopped, but the wet from the ground seeped into her back, her hair clung to her neck, and water from the trees dripped onto her face. She shivered.

She still couldn’t move, and she didn’t want to; the side of her head hurt too much. Even the slight movement of her eyes sent a dizzying sickness through her. She vaguely remembered the captain's offer, and one of his knights hitting her with the handle of her sword. Belle supposed that was so she couldn't call Rumplestiltskin before they'd had a chance to get away.

As her memories slowly returned to her, and the world gradually came back into focus, Belle became aware of other things around her. There was a shuffling nearby, and something that sounded like spluttering. It took what little strength she had to push herself onto her side, so she could see the source of the strange noises.

“Rumple?” she asked. It had to be him. Even standing with his back to her, his leathers and waved hair were unmistakable.

“Don’t move,” he growled. He sounded angry, but his voice was muffled and distant, like her head was submerged in the river.

“What--?” Belle tried to sit up and immediately regretted it. Her head spun, her stomach lurched, and everything went out of focus.

Pressing her hand to the side of her head, she tried to lift herself to her knees. Her legs were a heavy weight and a steadying hand gripped her shoulder. It reminded her of the knight that had gripped her, keeping her on her knees, but this hand was gentle. His grip was just firm enough to support her, and that was all. She slumped against his legs and sighed, trembling.

“Belle,” Rumple said, making her open her eyes. She looked up at him and saw his face clearly for the first time. There was a rage burning in his amber eyes, but as soon as he saw her looking back at him it fizzled away to a wide-eyed concern.

His other arm, the one that wasn’t gripping her and holding her against his leg, was stretched out towards something else. And then she remembered the sputtering sound. The same, choked and cut off noise that sounded suspiciously like a voice.

Belle carefully turned her head and saw a man on his knees, his hands digging at an unseen force wrapped around his neck. She was almost thankful that her eyes refused to focus on him.

 _Rook_ , she thought the man’s name was. The Red Knight that had gripped her shoulder.

"Rumple, stop," she said weakly, reaching out to grab his arm.

“He deserves it, Belle,” he ground out, the anger quickly returning to his voice. The hand on her shoulder moved to the side of her face, and cupped her cheek with a deceptive gentleness. It was in complete contrast to the claw of his other hand as he choked the life out of the knight.

Unbidden, the thought of his dagger came back to Belle’s mind. It could control him. The very idea that Cora wanted that dagger brought a whole new unease to her poor stomach, and she pulled on Rumple’s coat to get his attention. She had to tell him.

“Let him go,” she insisted. “I have to--” A warmth soothed the side of her head, and her mind and sickness slowly began to ebb away. He’d used magic to heal her head, she realised before she could stop him.

“ _Stop_ ,” Belle said again, and felt his hand flinch against her cheek. She pushed herself onto unsteady feet, grabbing the arm he was using to strangle Rook. “Stop it, Rumple.”

“He has to pay,” he insisted.

“And you’ll pay if you keep using magic,” she snapped back, seeing Rook clearly now. His once pale skin turned an alarming shade of purple, and his eyes started to bulge. “Rumple, please.”

“Maybe you’d like to do the honours,” he tempted.

Her head snapped around to look at him so fast she felt dizzy all over again. “Excuse me?”

“No?” His smile turned sharp, and with a twirl of his hand he released Rook. The knight coughed and choked, falling onto his hands. Belle thought he might be sick. “You’ve already killed a White Knight,” Rumple reminded, with a voice in her ear that was far too soft. “Why not a Red one?”

“That was an accident.” Pulling on his arm, she tried to lead him back towards the river, but he didn’t budge. He fixed her with a pointed look, smiling at her, and something heavy stirred in her chest. A small bit of darkness in her heart started to sing, reaching out to him. “Rumple...”

“He hurt you,” he said in a low murmur against her lips, guiding her hand to the hilt of her dagger between them. “Threatened _us_.” His fingers curled around hers and pulled the blade from its sheath. “Just one scratch. Then we’ll go.”

“I...”

“Yes?”

“ _No_.”

“No?” Stunned, Rumplestiltskin leaned back from her and she threw her dagger to the ground. The creeping darkness in her chest retreated, a wild beast scared back into a tiny cage, and she took a step away from him.

“You have to stop,” she told him earnestly. “Every time you use magic it takes away another little bit of you. No more, Rumple.”

“Belle, he needs to--”

“No!” she interrupted. “No more magic. Let him go.”

She could see the war of emotions dash across his face. Shock, frustration, stubbornness. It all boiled over in an overly dramatic twirl of his hand. A dark cloud bloomed around Rook, engulfing him and lifting him into the air.

As the fog cleared, a large, black rook fell to the ground, screeching and hopping up and down.

“You turned him into a bird!” Belle shouted in disbelief.

“Yes. Awful, aren’t I?” He returned dryly.

She curled her hands into fists and dipped down to grab her dagger.

“I know what you’re doing,” she said. “You’re trying to prove a point, but it won’t work.”

"Am I?"

"You know you are." With a little too much force, Belle pushed her dagger back into its sheath and stepped around Rumplestiltskin. She wasn't afraid to turn her back on him. If anything, she was certain it would only make him desperate to grab her attention back.

Rook jumped up onto a rock, squawking and flapping his wings uselessly. His cries sounded a lot like he was trying to talk. Belle supposed he was.

"I used to have a dove," Rumplestiltskin told her, just as she'd predicted he would. She knew he wouldn't like her avoiding him.

"For what?" Belle asked, still watching Rook angrily flapping.

"Spying, of course." Rumple came to stand beside her, and she had to force herself to stay where she was. She wouldn't let herself step away or look at him. He'd been able to draw out the little darkness in her heart too easily, making her regret trusting him with that secret.

"I need eyes and wings over the forest," he continued.

Belle frowned and, unable to stop herself any longer, turned to look at him.

"What?" she asked, and Rumple met her eyes with a cautious glance. "Why would he ever help us?"

"Because it's his only chance at being human again." He turned to Rook and raised his voice. "And if he betrays us, I'll pluck him." He mimed a pinching action with his thumb and forefinger, bearing his teeth. "One feather at a time."

" _Rumple_." Belle took his hand from out of the air, making him jump, and pulled him around to face her. “I--”

“Something the matter, dearie?” It was his turn to interrupt her, and he did it with a bitter bite in his voice. It was then that Belle realised why he was acting out, but he didn’t give her a chance to process her thoughts fully before he carried on.

“Were you expecting something _pwettier?_ ” he goaded. “Maybe I should be a chivalrous young knight, and forgive the man who hurt you?”

She wanted to snap at him, but she knew that wouldn’t work. From his perspective, he’d found her lying unconscious in the woods, after being captured by the knights they’d spent weeks avoiding, and now she was trying to stop him from killing one of them.

“I’m doing this for you,” Belle told him quietly. His frown wavered, and Belle lifted his hand between them. He watched her silently, his annoyance becoming confusion and then curiosity, as she began to draw circles across his palm. He watched her hand with his unnatural eyes, completely still, and she saw for the first time how wet he was. His skin was covered in raindrops and dirt, and so were the knees of his trousers. He’d been kneeling beside her, she realised, and that made Belle even more determined to calm him down.

He hadn’t lost her, the knights hadn’t taken her, and she certainly wasn’t siding with Rook over him.

“I don’t want you to darken your heart any more,” she whispered. He’d been so taut with anger, that Belle could see the exact moment it left him. His shoulders relaxed and he stood a little taller, still watching her hand curiously. And then he frowned, tilting his head as if noticing something for the first time.

“Where did you get this?” He held her arm, stilling Belle’s hand over his, and she remembered the little blue ribbon tied around her wrist.

“A man in the market gave it to me,” she said, and he didn’t seem to like that. “You know him. He said his name was Hatter.”

It took him a moment, but perhaps that was because he was too busy inspecting the ribbon woven with his gold, before a look of recognition sparked in his eyes.

“He’s here?”

“He had a stall,” Belle said with a nod. “He said he’s on our side.”

Rumplestiltskin’s lips slowly curved into a smile, and Belle found herself smiling back despite everything. But it was short lived, when she remembered everything else she still had to tell him. She glanced back at Rook, who’d still managed to do nothing more than jump a few feet into the air. He wouldn’t be learning to fly any time soon, Belle thought with a sigh.

“I have something to tell you,” she said to Rumple, and pulled on his hand to guide him back to the river and their cave. Her little basket, which she’d filled with food from the market, was lying on its side next to the river bank. The food that was left had been ruined in the rain, and the rest must have been washed away in the current.

Trying not to let her frustration show, Belle picked up the basket and waded through the river to the waterfall. The water parted, with the aid of Rumplestiltskin’s magic, and she struggled not to sigh again as she stepped inside.

It was such a relief to be back that she almost forgot why she’d really led them back to their cave in the first place. Rumplestiltskin stood nearby, watching her expectantly, and Belle started to unlace her bodice. She didn't mind stripping in front of him, even now. She'd rather be naked than in those muddied and soaked clothes. She couldn’t breathe with them on.

Throwing down the dirty bodice and shirt, Belle tried to figure out the best way to tell him what the Red Knights had wanted. In the end she decided directness was the best way.

“The Red Knights made me an offer,” she said, almost conversationally as she slipped off her trousers. “In exchange for something from the queen.”

“A deal,” he said carefully, still watching her.

“For your dagger.” Belle nodded and looked at him. He was giving her an odd look, one she couldn’t quite work out. He was either suspicious that she might take them up on their deal, or wondering what would happen if she really did have access to his dagger. “I won’t give it to them,” she promised. “I would never do that.”

“What do they offer you in return?” he asked, to Belle’s surprise.

“Oh, um--” She shook her head and shrugged a shoulder. “A bean.”

He was quiet for a time, watching the rush of the waterfall, and Belle could see the workings of a plan beginning to form behind his eyes. She took the brief pause to slip under the blankets of their makeshift bed.

All she wanted to do was curl up and sleep. Rumple looked back at her, and seemed to read her thoughts. He began to undress - freeing himself of the mud-caked leathers and the water-heavy silks - and slipped into the blankets beside her. His scaled skin carried the chill of the rain, and Belle hugged him close to try and warm him. She was sure she felt just as bitterly cold as he did, but he pulled her against his chest and let her tuck her head under his chin.

“They’re very rare,” he murmured, the deep sound vibrated low in his chest against her cheek. She didn’t know how to respond, but she pressed herself closer to him and nodded. “We could go anywhere.”

“No,” she said quietly. “We couldn’t. Cora would have control over you.”

“Would she?” She couldn’t see his face, but she could _hear_ the playful smile on his lips.

“But… She’d have to? That’s the deal.”

“She wants my dagger,” he corrected gently. “A dagger that belongs to me. Did they specify that it has to be the real one?”

Belle thought about that, then shook her head. “No.”

“Would you like to leave this realm, Belle?” he asked, playing with her hair where it fell behind her back. “To see another world?”

“Yes,” she said honestly, hardly daring to believe what he was really offering her. “I wouldn’t have to hide anymore.” That made his arms tighten around her, and Belle wondered just how much of this he’d already planned. “Did you know they were going to catch me?” she asked hesitantly. “Did you already know what Cora wanted?”

“Of course not,” Rumple dismissed easily, but it did nothing to ease her worry, and he must have noticed that. He twirled her hair around his fingers and sighed. “I wouldn’t have left you if I’d known,” he promised.

“But you have a plan?”

“Of sorts.” He teased. “The beginnings of one.”

Lying naked in his arms, Belle wasn’t surprised to find that she still trusted him, even after what he’d done outside. The little bit of darkness sitting inside her was thrilled by his touch, but the rest of her was comforted by his words. Rumple shifted against her, making Belle look up, and she caught his eyes on her lips. She held her breath, hoping that he was finally going to kiss her first.

But the moment passed. Again.

She'd been trying to get him to kiss her first from the moment he’d told her he loved her as she pretended to sleep. He hadn’t caught the hint. It was almost enough to plant little seeds of doubt about his feelings for her, but he still had his tender moments. If he didn't love her, why would he be holding her so tight to banish the chill she'd caught in the rain, or playing with her hair?

“Rumple,” she said steadily, trying not to let her emotions betray her when he looked away from her.

“You should eat something,” he said, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking and wanted to distract her. Belle frowned.

“I’m not hungry.”

Rumple sighed, and he had no right to look as dejected as he did. He was the one who’d failed to kiss her. Belle would have happily stolen a kiss before he’d decided to look away.

“Then rest,” he said gently. “And I’ll tell you my plan.”


	8. Moving On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally time to move on from their cave.
> 
> Thank you to my very good friend Maplesyrup for being my beta on this and all the previous chapters! ❤️❤️❤️

The plan was decided, but in order to set it in motion Belle needed to make some money. Rumple had offered to use magic to take them to their destination, but she’d firmly told him no. He’d already used so much on her, she didn’t want to add the price of teleporting her that far.

Rook had been flapping around before Rumplestiltskin sent him away to watch for his fellow knights. He’d learnt to fly a short distance, with little breaks in between, but Belle assumed he was glad for the opportunity to fly away from Rumple, who followed her as she scoured the woods around their cave. He was mostly silent, but every time she looked up she saw him watching her. His eyes were narrowed, and his lips pulled into an odd smile.

"What is it?" Belle asked him the third time she caught him staring.

"This is magic," he told her with an amused flip of his hand.

"No, it's not," she said firmly, and turned away to pick another passionflower, placing it with the other flowers and herbs in her basket. It hadn’t taken her long to amass a small collection of poppies, willow bark, thyme, and a few other things that Rumple had brought for her.

"Where did you learn to make potions?" he asked, like he hadn't heard her dismissal.

"I found a book,” Belle answered. “About herbs that can be used for healing."

"In my library."

Sighing, she glanced back at him with a faint frown. He looked like he was trying not to smile, and she realised too late that he was teasing her, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to correct him.

"Not everything in your library was about magic. And these aren't potions, they're medicine."

Falling quiet again, but not looking any less amused, Rumplestiltskin finally found something else to distract him. He wandered off, back in the direction of their cave, as Belle finished gathering the final ingredients.

“Belle,” Rumple spoke directly into her ear, making her jump, and she playfully swatted his arm as she straightened up.

“Don’t do that,” she scolded lightly, but he only smiled at her and held up a small flower, pinched between his fingertips. “A violet? I don’t need violets, Rumple.”

“Oh, it’s not for your potions,” he waved his free hand, and then offered it to her. “It’s for you.”

“I… Thank you.” It was a pretty flower, albeit very tiny. The fact that she’d seen them growing around their cave made the significance to him obvious, and Belle smiled as she held out her hand to take it from him. But he didn’t let her. He turned her hand over, palm down, and wrapped the delicate stem around the ring finger of her right hand.

A ripple of magic tickled her where their fingers brushed together, and when Rumple released her, she saw that the little violet had been turned to gold. She wanted to tell him off for using magic, _again_ , but the gesture was so sweet that Belle couldn’t bring herself to be anything but touched.

“It’s a protection spell,” he assured her, as she twisted her hand and watched the sunlight twinkle against the golden petals.

“It’s far too precious for me to wear on the road,” she hesitated.

“Why? You’re protected now.” Their eyes met and her breath caught. She knew he meant that the ring was somehow her protection, but as she looked at Rumplestiltskin, her idea of being protected was very different.

 _Yes_ , she thought. She was protected by him.

“What’s the price?” she asked, because she needed to distract herself from the rise of a lump in the back of her throat.

Rumple seemed to seriously consider her question of a price this time, without brushing her off and telling her that he’d pay it himself. He took a step closer to her, searching her face, and Belle thought he was about to turn her down again.

“A kiss,” he decided, as though he was the one expecting to be turned down.

“That’s not a price,” she laughed gently, and he looked even more uncertain. Belle sighed. “I’d give you a kiss freely, Rumple. I already have.” She took a step forward, smiling at him. “And I’d happily do it again.”

“You’re--” Belle shut him up with her lips, her hand on the side of his neck. At first, he leaned back slightly in surprise, before he realised what she was doing and returned her kiss.

She waited for him to deepen it, or to place his hands on her, but he did neither. Rumple returned exactly what she gave him and nothing more. Pulling back with a soft smack of their lips, Belle searched his face for _something._ It both frustrated her and endeared her that he'd suggested the price of a kiss, and made no attempt to take anything more from her than that. Maybe he thought he was being respectful, but waiting for her to initiate everything was wearing her thin.

“You’re still wearing that ribbon,” he said, and Belle could see that he instantly regretted saying it. Her eyes dropped to the little blue ribbon, ran through with Rumple’s own gold, tied prettily around her wrist.

“I like it,” she said, looking back up to him. That had been the wrong thing to say, she realised. His jaw was clenched, eyes narrowed, and she realised he had a problem with her wearing the Hatter’s token. “Rumple,” she said firmly, taking his hand. “I like it because it reminds me we have friends.”

He considered that for a moment, before he gave her hand a squeeze and held her back. “We.”

"Yes, _we_. Both of us,” Belle repeated, with the beginnings of a smile. “Now, stop being silly and help me make these?"

His eyes flicked down to her basket, wrinkling his nose, and a smile quickly returned to his face. "Yes, I'll help with your potions."

"Medicines," she corrected, even if she was smiling back at him.

 

* * *

 

It was another couple of days before Belle had scraped together what money she’d need to buy a horse, and possibly a night or two in an inn. Most of it had been made from selling medicine for headaches, ground herbs for various teas, lotions for sores, and a few coppers she had left from her earlier trips to the market.

The final coin had come from Rumplestiltskin himself. He presented her with a bright, gold coin after she’d counted together all of her silvers, and found herself short. She’d hesitated to accept it from him, before mentally scolding herself. If he said he wouldn’t use any more magic, then Belle had to trust that he wouldn’t. He’d once been known for spinning straw into gold, it wasn’t entirely impossible that he just happened to already have a gold coin.

Leaving Rumple behind in their cave to gather everything up into a bag and roll up their bedding, Belle ventured down into the village. It wasn’t market day for another few days, but there were still a few stalls and sellers walking around offering their wears. The only place she could buy or hire a horse was the stables behind the inn. Belle just hoped that there was a strong enough horse to carry herself, Rumple, and the few things she owned.

“Rose?” a man called over the shouts of the sellers and villagers, and Belle turned to see him weaving his way through the crowd, with his hands behind his back.

“Hatter.” Belle smiled, walking to meet him. “I didn’t think I’d get to see you again. We’re… leaving.”

“I had a feeling you might. These forests grow increasingly more dangerous. In fact--” He moved his hands, revealing the large top hat he’d hidden behind him, and sat it on his head. “It’s time I did a little travelling of my own.”

“Oh.” Belle’s heart sank. Rumple hadn’t shared his whole plan with her yet, because he wasn’t certain they’d be able to get that far, but she’d assumed it would involve more people. Like Hatter. He’d been their only ally so far, and he was leaving before they’d had a chance to use his help. “Where are you going?”

“I don’t know yet,” he admitted, filling her with a little spark of hope. “The hat,” Hatter explained, “is untested. Unreliable. But I need to go. As do you.”

“The hat--?”

“Oh!” He snapped his fingers, once, twice, as if the words he wanted to say were on the tip of his tongue. “ _Gold_.”

“G-Gold?” Belle repeated hesitantly. He’d completely lost her.

“Yes. For his code name. Hatter, Rose, and Gold. What do you say?”

“Oh, that’s-- um.” Belle cleared her throat, but she could feel herself starting to smile. “Gold it is. I hope you get to where you need to be, and I hope we’ll meet again.”

“Of that,” he tipped the front of his hat, “I am certain. Stay safe and stay off the roads. There’s more than just knights in these woods.”

With that, before Belle could wish him a safe journey in return, Hatter slipped back into the crowd. Even with his hat on, it didn’t take many moments for him to disappear completely. It looked like whatever Rumple had planned, it would have to be kept between the two of them. For now. But she wouldn’t let that deter her. She had a horse to buy and a journey to plan. They would get out of the Enchanted Forest, and go somewhere much safer than their cave.

The inn wasn’t far from the market square, and it was easy to spot, being one of the largest of the stone buildings. A wooden sign swung above the door, with the name _The Queen and Dragon_ painted on in fading letters, and Belle stepped under it on her way inside.

It was mostly empty, she assumed because it was still early morning, so it didn’t take much for her to grab the innkeeper's attention. He was a burly man, with a square jaw and a balding head of black hair, who stood too close when he walked her out to the stables, and reminded Belle too much of some of the overconfident knights her father had introduced her to. That meant he underestimated her, which made bartering for the stables’ strongest horse relatively easy. He clearly hadn’t expected her to try to haggle with him at all, and after offering a little extra silver for someone to brush and saddle him, Belle rode away on a beautiful, chestnut stallion.

She rode part of the way back to the cave, leaving the village for the last time, and met Rumplestiltskin at a fork in the road that split off into the forest. He stepped out from behind a large oak tree, a red hood pulled down over his face. Belle didn’t want to ask where he’d found his old cloak, because she was fairly certain that the answer would be magic.

Carrying her bag and bed roll across, swinging it lightly as if it weighed nothing, he gave the horse a quick once-over. He seemed impressed enough.

“Very good choice,” he said with a small smile, one that only widened when she grinned back at him. She didn’t need his praise, Belle told herself, but every time Rumplestiltskin complimented her her heart soared. “Did the innkeeper seem suspicious?”

“Not at all,” Belle assured him, cringing when she thought about the leering man. “I think he was more interested in other things.” Rumple clearly didn’t catch her meaning right away, but when he did he scowled and came closer, placing his hand on her knee.

“I should have come with you.”

“I was fine,” Belle said, giving his hand a squeeze. “He really would have suspected something if you came with me. And I saw your friend.”

“What _friend_?” he asked, as though the very idea of having a friend was offensive.

“Hatter,” she answered simply, and a look of sheepish recognition flickered across his face. Belle smiled. “Now, put the bag on Philippe, and climb up.”

“What?”

“Philippe. The horse.” She grinned down at Rumple. “I think it suits him, don’t you?”

“You’ve named him already?” He sounded more amused than anything else, and Belle nodded as he disappeared behind her.

“I’ve had the name planned since we decided to get a horse.”

“Why?”

“He needs a name! It’s from a book I read in the Dark Castle,” she explained happily as he strapped their belongings onto Philippe’s back. “He belonged to a fearless heroine, who rode him off into all kinds of adventures. With beasts and magical castles.” Rumple walked back around to Philippe’s side and looked up at her with a bemused frown. “There was even a talking clock.”

“What a fanciful tale,” he said, but he wasn’t belittling her. A little smile played on his lips, which Belle could see no matter how hard he tried to conceal it.

“It will be an adventure,” she assured him. “It already is, in a way. I was never allowed to ride a horse this size in my father’s stable.”

Rumple gave her a keen look, as if he was seeing much more of her inner thoughts than she’d intended him to. “Do you miss it?”

He kept watching her with those impossible eyes, and Belle shifted in the saddle. _Did_ she miss it?

“No,” she decided. “I just miss the simplicity of it.” Slipping her foot out of the stirrup, she waited for Rumple to climb up behind her. A heat rose in her cheeks as his legs settled either side of hers, and he pressed against her back.

“Do you want to take the reins?” she asked, and she couldn’t help feeling like she was asking something far more intimate. He didn’t answer her immediately, but when he did his voice was in her ear and his breath whispered against her neck.

“Do you want me to?” Rumplestiltskin asked. He carefully swept her hair over her other shoulder, exposing more of her neck, and Belle’s stomach jumped when his fingers and claws brushed against her skin.

“I want you to let me know if you want to,” Belle returned. “Do you want to?”

A silence followed, and she wished she could see his face. He adjusted himself in the saddle behind her, bumping his chest against her back. She could just imagine the way he was probably rubbing his fingers together, trying to stop himself from touching her and searching for the right answer, because it wasn’t really the horse they were talking about.

“No,” Rumple declined, to Belle’s disappointment. “I’ll let you have the choice.”

Twisting around in the saddle, she tried to look at his face but he stopped her. His arms snaked around her waist and hugged her tight to his chest. Belle tried to keep her breathing even, but she was certain he must have felt the excited shiver that ran down her back. She parted her lips to speak, but a squawking from above interrupted her.

“Pesky bird,” Rumple spat, and Belle pat his hand where it rested over her stomach. She looked up to where Rook was perched on a branch above them, his ink black eyes watching them closely.

“He’s not a bird,” she reminded. It should have worried her that his gleeful giggle, at the reminder of what he’d done to the knight, made her smile as well.

“It’s so easy to forget,” he said into her ear, but Belle was busy watching Rook hop from branch to branch, watching them. “Not having second thoughts, are we?”

“No,” she promised after a moment, leaning back into him, and kicked Philippe to walk on. “This is exactly where I want to be.”


	9. Bedside Manner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's left kudos and comments so far! I really appreciate the support and hearing what you all think ❤️

For the first day of travelling, Belle had insisted that they ride as far as they could until it got dark and they found an inn. She wanted to leave the Enchanted Forest, and the grasp of the Queen of Hearts as quickly as possible, but things were never that simple.

The long ride, with very few breaks, had left her thighs and back sore, and her stomach queasy. Rumplestiltskin wasn’t happy with her. He’d begrudgingly let her buy their room and a stable for Philippe, and he was waiting for her in the room when she finally made it upstairs. He stood in front of the tiny window, with its dirty glass and netted curtain, and didn’t turn around as she dumped her bag beside the door.

“Have you stopped talking to me now, too?” Belle asked, falling back against the frame. It was a tiny space, with wooden walls, a wash basin that had no water and a dirty mirror, and a bed that would be only just big enough for the two of them. If he wanted to share it with her, that is.

“We should have stopped hours ago,” he said quietly, with a deceitful calmness that Belle knew hid his frustration with her.

She heaved a sigh and pushed herself away from the door. A wash would have been lovely, but that would mean spending more money, and she couldn’t bring herself to walk back downstairs to the innkeeper. She just wanted to collapse onto the bed and not move for several hours.

“I want us to get there as soon as possible,” Belle reminded him, her voice bouncing slightly as she fell back onto the mattress. It was lumpy in places, but her poor back was so stiff she couldn’t quite bring herself to care. It was just nice to be lying down.

Closing her eyes with a contented sigh, Belle considered falling asleep with her travel clothes still on, until Rumple spoke again.

“I could heal you,” he said, making her jump. His voice was so close that she knew before she opened her eyes he was leaning over her.

“I know,” she soothed, trying to give him a reassuring smile. “But this is normal. I’ll be fine after some rest.”

“And a meal,” Rumple added, and she tried to suppress another sigh. It wasn’t his fault, and she didn’t want to lose her temper with him, but all her aching body wanted to do was sleep.

“I can’t keep spending coins, Rumple,” she said. They’d bought food with them from the village. At some point in the night, after some rest, she’d get up and eat some of that, but for now Belle wanted to make the most of the bed. “Will you join me?”

She didn't like how hesitant he looked, as if he was trying to find an excuse not to. Belle had to remind herself that it wasn't her he was frustrated with, it was himself. Without his magic, Rumplestiltskin had no idea how to make her feel better, to the point where his worry for her stopped him from realising she was telling him exactly how to comfort her.

"I just want to rest," she told him gently, and the war of emotions on his face softened. “Maybe I’ll have something to eat after.” She doubted it, she really didn’t have enough money to pay for an inn and food every night they had to stop, but Belle needed to reassure him so they could both rest.

“Very well,” he said at last, gingerly sitting on the edge of the bed.

It was a small surrender, but the little victory made Belle smile, and gave her just enough energy to pull off her boots and loosen the lace on her bodice. Moving to undress only made her realise just how sore she was, and how much her joints ached from sitting in the same position for so long. She awkwardly slipped off her bodice, and wiggled out of her trousers. All without leaving the bed. By the time she was down to her underwear, she finally noticed that Rumplestiltskin hadn’t moved at all. He was watching her, with a wide eyed look that was somehow a mixture of awe and concern.

“Did you want to help me?” Belle teased, and his lips quirked up into the first smile she’d seen on his face in hours. “Is that a no?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”  Bringing his legs up onto the bed, Rumple turned towards her and leaned closer. “But you need to rest. Your words, not mine.”

“I do.” She nodded sagely, but was certain she hadn’t been able to hide her smile. “Which means you need to take that thing off,” she gave the oversized collar of his coat a little tug and shook her head.

“I must have got distracted.” His tone was clipped, but Belle could see from the amused twinkle in his eyes that he was trying to make her laugh. It worked, but the sudden burst of it tickled the back of her throat, and cut off into a short coughing fit. _Great,_ she thought wryly. Even her throat was getting sore.

“Belle?”

“It’s nothing,” she promised, patting at her chest, and sent him a watery smile before slipping into bed. She suddenly felt even more drained than she had when they first arrived. Sleep was calling to her, but she wanted Rumple beside her before she finally gave in.

He joined her a short moment later, in nothing but his own underwear, and she cuddled into his side as he pulled the inn’s thick, woollen blanket over them. His heartbeat thumped in her ear, and Belle idly wondered, as she drifted off, why it was beating so fast. But a second later the thought was gone, and she fell asleep with his hand playing with her hair.

Hours must have passed before she finally stirred, to the low murmur of his voice in her hair and the soft glow of early morning creeping in through the tiny window. He must have realised the moment she woke up, because he stopped talking and his fingers stilled in her hair.

“That was nice,” she muttered against his chest, and regretted it. Belle was still half-asleep, but she was awake enough to know that she felt worse than she had before sleeping. Her throat was dry and her voice had been nothing more than a croak. Her head swam, and she kept her eyes tightly shut to keep out the morning sun. Rumple started brushing his fingers through her hair again, and it was the only thing she found soothing.

“How do you feel?” he asked. Belle gave a non-committal hum. She didn’t want to talk again, and she had a feeling that Rumple knew that. If he didn’t, then she didn’t want to tell him. Not immediately, anyway. He was already worried about her poor limbs, as unused to horse-riding as they were. The last thing she needed was to give him another excuse to offer to use magic.

As he lay underneath her, toying with her hair and brushing her arm with his other hand, it was hard to believe he was really the Dark One. She could feel how heavy the darkness lay on his heart. Ever since he'd captured Rook, and his heart had reached out to the small taste of darkness in her own, Belle knew she had to ease its grip on him, and herself. But in quiet moments like that, and the few times they’d lain together after giving in to their desire for one another, he was so gentle that it was alarmingly easy to forget about the darkness. But they hadn’t slept together for more than a week. Not since Belle realised it was never him that kissed her first. He would always follow her lead.

“Rumple?” Belle eventually whispered, because she was certain her throat wouldn’t let her do anything else. He rested his chin on her head to show her he was listening. “Do you want me?”

His hands stopped and his breath caught. She couldn’t tell if he was shocked, offended, or had hoped she wouldn’t catch him. She would have cried when the silence dragged on between them, but her body and mind were too tired. All they wanted to do was sleep, and all she wanted to do was pretend she hadn’t asked him that and been ignored.

“I don’t think I can ride today,” she said dejectedly.

“Would you like me to take the reins?” Rumple asked, but Belle was already giving in to the escape of sleep.

The next time she woke up, she was alone in the bed, but Rumplestiltskin was still there. She could sense him near the bed, and as the world slipped back into focus she registered the sound of his boots pacing up and down the wooden floorboards of their tiny room. She groaned against the thumping in her head, which hadn't eased at all with sleep, The sound tickled the back of her throat, making her cough, and the pacing near the bed immediately stopped.

"Belle?" She cracked her eyes open at the sound of her name, and found him standing over her, his hands fidgeting at his sides as though he wanted to reach out to her but didn't know if he should.

"What time is it?" Belle asked, and instantly regretted it. Her throat was so dry, her voice came out choked and broken. It only made Rumple's frown deepen.

"Noon. Or just after." He turned his back to her, and she tried to sit up. Her limbs still ached and a pain shot through her back, protesting against any more movement, but she pushed herself until she was propped up against the rough pillows. Rumple seemed surprised to find her like that, when he turned back to her with a plate of steaming, hot food.

"Where did you get that?" she asked, because she was so surprised to see it she wasn't sure what else to say. They had very little money, and if he'd resorted to magic...

"Downstairs," he answered with a nasty smile, as if he could read her mind, but his griping was half-hearted and soon gave way to concern again.

"Did anyone see you?"

"I imagine they did," Rumple said, placing the plate carefully into her lap, "when I asked them to make it."

Belle gasped, and started coughing all over again. The force of it rattled in her chest, and she had to quickly set the plate aside. The food looked so good - hot, honeyed ham with vegetables and gravy - and even though her stomach gurgled to remind her she hadn't eaten since yesterday, she still wasn't sure she could eat any of it.

A hand on her back stopped her from staring longingly at her meal, and she turned to Rumple with watery eyes. He'd sat down beside her and was rubbing her back in slow circles. His face had become a carefully crafted mask, but he couldn't hide the raw unease in his eyes. Belle tried to smile at him as her coughing subsided, but it felt shaky and forced, even to her.

"How much was it?" she wheezed, before he had a chance to fuss over her again.

"Oh, I didn't pay for it."

"Then how--?"

"People can be persuaded to do all sorts of things," Rumple told her easily, placing the plate back onto her legs, "For the right price."

"You made a deal?" she asked, and he nodded. "But... Now they've seen you! They could tell someone."

"They won't. That was part of the deal. They will give us food and discretion."

"In exchange for what?"

"Their lives, of course," he answered easily, with a little laugh and grin. Belle could see just how pleased he was to have found a loophole to her 'no magic' rule, and for now decided that she'd let it slide. He only wanted to help her, she reminded herself. She'd want to do the same, if he was ever sick. “And I’ve had your knight, Sir Rook, keeping watch.”

“He’s not my knight,” Belle chided, and he seemed pleased by that. She sighed and looked down at the plate. "I should have saved some of those medicines," she said thoughtlessly, poking at a potato with her fork, "Or made some extra for ourselves." Belle realised too late that Rumple wouldn't have any need for her herbal remedies. Or any other type of medicine. He was unperturbed by the long ride, unlike her.

"Then you'd have even fewer coins than you have now," he reminded, and she was glad he hadn't corrected her mistake. He took the fork from her and began to cut up the ham. The wonderful scent of the crisp meat, cooked in honey, hit her suddenly and made her stomach rumble again. He gave a small, knowing smirk and held up the fork with a mouthful of ham and potato.

"You don't need to feed me," Belle grumbled, but leaned forward anyway to take the bite.

"Really?" he asked blandly, readying another piece as she chewed the food. It was delicious, but her throat didn't care. It hurt to swallow, and she wished they had some water she could wash it down with. "For a moment," Rumple continued, pointing at her with the loaded fork, "I thought you'd forgotten how to use this."

"I know you're worried," Belle said gently, taking the fork from him. He looked surprised, like he'd thought he'd been doing a masterful job at hiding his concern for her. "I'm... not even sure what's wrong with me," she admitted, "but I'll be fine. I just need to rest, and then we can move on."

"I could take us--"

"No," she interrupted, as softly as she could. "It's too far, Rumple. We don't need magic."

Rumplestiltskin fell silent, and Belle tried not to feel awkward with his inhuman eyes watching her. She ate a few more, small bites of her meal, trying not to wince each time she swallowed. He was right; she had to eat something, no matter how uncomfortable she felt.

"This is the price," he said suddenly, quietly, as though he'd just thought of something truly awful.

"What--" She cleared her throat. "What is?"

"This," he fanned his hand in the air, willing her to understand without him having to explain. She didn't, and he must have seen that on her face. Frowning, he pulled his knees up onto the bed and turned to her fully. "I said I'd pay," he put his hand to his chest, then pointed at hers, "You insisted you would."

"Yes," Belle agreed uncertainly. She didn't know what else to say.

"Now we both are." Rumple dropped his hands, and he was oddly still for a moment. His eyes trailed over her face and body, lingering over her chest as she struggled to breath. It wasn't a lustful stare, she could see that much. It was the sort of look that told her he'd only just realised just how laboured her breathing was.

"Why?" Belle asked.

"Magic is funny like that." His eyes snapped back up to her face, his head tilted to one side. "And you won’t let me heal you.” He sounded so confused by that, that Belle couldn’t even bring herself to be mad with him.

“If magic did this,” she explained carefully, dropping her knife and fork onto the plate, “then I don’t want to use it again.” She pushed the plate away, appetite completely lost. “Who knows what it could do?”

“It could stop your suffering,” Rumple said impatiently.

“According to you, it’s _why_ I’m suffering,” she snapped back.

He frowned at her, baring his teeth in a snarl, but Belle wasn’t afraid. She doubted he could ever scare her. No matter how often he growled or flashed his teeth, he’d never actually done anything to hurt her. The fact he was so concerned about her wellbeing, and still sat beside her on the bed, assured her that he never would.

“I’m not hungry,” she said weakly. His attention briefly turned to the plate, and he lifted his hand in a flippant gesture, one she only just recognised in time. Grabbing his wrist, Rumple jumped at the sudden contact and looked back at her with wide eyes.

“No,” Belle said firmly. “Even a little bit of magic must have a price. Think about...” She hesitated. “Think about your heart.”

He stared at her hand as she held onto him, unable to meet her eyes. He was wearing one of his frilled, silk shirts again, but her fingers still brushed against the warm, scaled skin. She was suddenly filled with the urge to kiss him, but her head span as she leaned forward, and she was reminded of why she’d grasped his wrist in the first place. And why she should still be mad at him.

Gently wrapping his arm around her shoulders, Rumple helped her to lie back down, pulling the blanket up to her chin. He set the plate down on the little bedside table, beside an old, tarnished candelabre with its candles almost burnt away.

“Will you stay nearby?” she asked, settling back down into the bed and curling up on her side.

“Yes,” he said curtly, straightening up. “I’ll be… I’ll stay here.”

Smiling to herself, Belle gave him a little nod as her eyes slid such and her fatigue caught up with her again. She fell asleep to the feel of him softly brushing her hair out of her face.


	10. Stay

The next morning didn’t bring Belle much comfort. She woke up beside Rumplestiltskin, when the early morning was still dark and he was asleep. The aching from the ride had finally subsided, but that only made Belle realise just how sick she really was. She’d hoped, after refusing to let him use more magic, that maybe the sickness would pass, but her head still hurt and her throat still grated.

She’d woken on and off in the night, thrown up the contents of her stomach once, and Rumple had given her water each time she woke after that. This was the first time she’d woken up and found him asleep. He didn’t look very peaceful. The blanket was bunched around him as if he’d tossed and turned before finally settling on his side, facing her.

As carefully as she could, Belle shuffled closer to him and brushed some of his hair from his face. There was a little frown creasing his brow and wrinkling his nose. She lightly dusted her fingertips over the lines, as if she could smooth them away, and traced down to the bridge of his angled nose. She could feel the soft bumps of the flecks of gold on his skin, and the moment he stirred and started to wake up.

Eyes slowly flickering open, he pressed his face closer to the pillow, and Belle moved her hand to cup his cheek.

“Good morning,” she whispered. It was about all she could manage with her sore throat. She was surprised she hadn’t lost her voice completely. The frown that had marred his face softened when his eyes focused on her face, and a little smile spread across his lips.

“Belle.” He still sounded drowsy with sleep, but he kept his eyes on her face. The look of delight in his eyes, at waking with her beside him, faded away then. His frown returned and he reached up to take her hand. “You’re still sick.” It wasn’t a question.

Swallowing thickly, Belle licked her lips and nodded. It made her feel even worse to know that she was worrying him, and he was very clearly blaming himself for her discomfort, but she couldn’t hide that she was still unwell. She closed her eyes, fighting against the pounding in her head and the dryness of her throat, to answer him properly.

“But we can’t stay here.”

“Belle--”

“No,” she interrupted gently, brushing her thumb across his cheek bone. “We can’t stay. We have to keep moving.” She cleared her throat. “Deal or not, _someone_ from the inn will give us away. It’s… It’s your deal against the promise of the Queen’s gold. Someone will choose gold.”

“Perhaps.”

“You _know_ they will.” He leaned back and gave her a wave of his hand to carry on. She dropped her hand. “We have to get to safety. Or we’ll never get that magic bean.”

“A fake blade, good enough to fool Cora, won’t be easy to forge.”

“But I know you can do it,” she said with a tired smile. “Then we can get that bean and leave this land. Together.”

Rumplestiltskin considered what she’d said for a moment, clearly unhappy with the idea of moving her so soon, and nodded. They had no idea how long she was going to be sick, and staying in one spot for more than a day had been too much of a risk in itself. They needed to move on quickly.

“Get some sleep,” he said, sitting up. Belle grabbed for his arm to stop him and protest, thinking he was disagreeing, but he gently brushed her hand away. “I’ll ready the horse.”

“Philippe,” she corrected playfully, and his mouth quirked into a brief smile.

“Such a ridiculous name,” he tutted, the impish Dark One slowly returning as he stood from the bed. She watched him, admiring his behind in those tight trousers, before he pulled on his jacket. “Maybe I’ll rename him. Or find a better horse.”

“You wouldn’t,” Belle said as sternly as her voice would allow, but it was weak and quiet, and her smile gave her away. She knew he wasn’t serious.

“You won’t be there to stop me, dearie,” Rumple sing-songed and turned to her with a low, dramatic bow before he left the room.

Sleep didn’t come as easily once she was awake and knew they were about to leave. She drifted in and out of consciousness as light slowly crept in through the window, and soon Rumple was back, filling her blue bag with something. She didn’t know what.

“Time to go,” he declared, making her jump out of her half-sleep. He giggled and leaned over the bed. “Perhaps I should carry you?”

“I can walk,” she said hoarsely. His little act didn’t bother her in the slightest, nor his rude awakening. His amused smile faltered when he heard her throaty voice, and he reached for her as she sat up. If he needed to put on his Dark One mask to cope with his worry for her, then Belle wouldn’t stop him.

Slipping out of the bed, she nearly toppled into him. Her poor legs wobbled from disuse, and her head swam in protest. Rumplestiltskin’s arms wound tightly around her waist, hugging her to him as she got used to being upright.

“Thank you,” she whispered. He nodded but said nothing, and let her lean against him as she pulled on her boots and laced her bodice. When she was done, Belle looked up to find him staring down at her hand, where she gripped at his arm for balance. She was about to let him go, when he reached up and ghosted his fingers over the back of her hand. She watched him as he drew a pattern across her skin.

“Would you like me to take the reins?” Rumple murmured. She took a deep breath through her nose, trying to steady her heart and swirling head. Little black dots danced across her vision, and Belle leaned closer to him, holding him tighter. He held her back, resting his chin on top of her head. His leather clothes were cool against her skin, and she sighed at how unexpectedly soothing that was.

“Belle?”

“Mm?”

“Hold on to me,” he said after a short pause. She had the feeling that wasn’t what he wanted to say, but her thoughts were growing too unfocused to think why. He could tell her anything, or ask her anything. Surely he knew that by now.

Doing as he said, with her eyes still closed, Belle wrapped her arm around his middle and rested her head against his shoulder. He led her away from the bed, and it took hearing the voices of other people to realise he’d led her out of the room. She cracked her eyes open and put her hand on his chest.

“Rumple,” she said uncertainly. “Your hood.”

“I’m wearing it, dearest,” he whispered against her hair. Belle tilted her head back to see his face. Her eyes didn’t want to refocus, and everything was too bright. She could just about see the outline of his red hood, pulled over his head, but it wasn’t enough to distract her from what he’d called her. Her cheeks were suddenly burning.

“Oh,” she breathed, forgetting what she was talking about. He stared at her, and she met his eyes unsteadily. They were so large, so reptilian and old, and full of concern, that Belle couldn’t look away. She could easily get lost in his eyes. “I like your eyes,” she told him with a little smile.

Blinking, speechless, Rumplestiltskin looked away and led her on to the staircase. A silence fell as they neared the bottom, and she was aware enough to know that people must have been watching them. Even with his hood hiding his face, the people in the inn must have known who he was, and they must have been getting a good look at the woman leaning in to him. Belle hated the thought of those strangers judging their relationship, but then the warmth of the early morning sun washed over her face, and she found herself outside, on her way to see Philippe.

Rumple leaned her against the gate post in the stables, and she watched with half-lidded eyes as he strapped her bag onto Philippe’s back. The stallion looked perfectly happy, well-fed and groomed, and Belle wondered if Rumple had scared the innkeeper into caring for her horse, as well. He probably had. It was very him to keep his thoughtfulness to himself.

Taking her hand, Rumplestiltskin helped her up onto Philippe’s back, and climbed up behind her. He sat her side-saddle, and she leaned into his chest as he took the horse’s reins.

She missed the comfort of the bed already, no matter how lumpy it had been. Sitting up on Philippe was already uncomfortable, and her stomach lurched when Rumple kicked him into a light walk. She must have made a sound, because Rumple looped his arm around her back, holding the reins with his left hand, and Belle hugged him tighter.

“Try to sleep,” he said. His voice rumbled in his chest, against her ear, and sounded far louder than it probably was. Belle hummed in response, already starting to doze.

_Settling against his chest, she smiled as she felt his arm drop lower. His warm hand rested on her thigh, and she sighed happily._

_“Rumple,” Belle whispered, as his hand slipped between her thighs_

She awoke with a start, some hours later, and found herself with her nose buried in his shirt. The smell of leather, forest, and something musky filled her senses and pulled her completely out of sleep.

“Rumple--” Belle croaked, breaking off with a weak cough. He hushed her, but didn’t stop her when she tried to sit up and look around. Her neck was stiff, she could barely move it, and her back hurt, but she refused to complain. She’d endure the sickness of the price of magic, and accept the aches of riding if it meant getting to safety sooner.

“How are you feeling?”

“Awful,” she answered honestly, finally able to tilt her head just enough to see where they were heading. They were deep into the forest, with no sign or sound of other life; only Rook cawing as he circled overhead and the clopping of Philippe’s hooves along the woodland road.

“And here I was thinking you were starting to sound better,” he said, amused. “Much more… enthusiastic.”

“What?”

“You were talking in your sleep,” he happily informed her. “Something about wanting more.” Her face flushed, burning hot, and Belle held her breath. She wanted to tell herself that he was only teasing her, but she had been dreaming of… that. She knew him well enough to at least know that he was using her dream as a distraction. He didn’t want to focus on how unwell she still was. It didn’t make it any less frustrating to have him talk so flippantly about her desire.

Rumple leaned down closer to her ear, and in a murmur that sent a shiver down her back, said, “More of what, I wonder.”

“You already know,” she whispered.

“Do I?”

“Don’t tease me.”

“I can’t pretend to know what you want, dearie,” he said, with laughter in his voice. Belle clenched her hands into little fists and tried to sit up straighter.

“You’d know if you kissed me,” she retorted, in as steady a voice as her sore throat would allow. It shut him up. There was no taunting comment. No mocking giggle. Even his hands were still, as he held onto Philippe’s reins and held her to him.

“I have kissed you,” he said flatly, after a drawn out silence.

“No.” Belle coughed, hating how weak and broken her voice sounded. “I’ve kissed _you_. It’s different.”

“I kissed you _back_ ,” Rumple amended petulantly. She scowled to herself, and wished she didn’t need to lean against him to keep herself upright. He was being ridiculous.

“But you’ve never kissed me first.“ There was another, awkward pause, and Belle wished she hadn’t said anything. She felt awful, she was tired, and she was frustrated. It would have been so much better if she hadn’t woken up yet.

“I didn’t think you’d want me to,” he said, and she could hear the sincerity and doubt in his voice, but it only helped to push away whatever patience she had left. Why would she kiss him if she didn’t want him to kiss her? Why did he doubt himself, or her, so much? There were many things she could have said, and should have said, but none of them left her lips.

“Maybe I don’t anymore,” she said instead, just as petulantly as he’d been, and instantly regretted it.

He took his arm from around her middle and held Philippe’s reins with both hands. Belle lifted her head to look at his face. It was stony and blank, and she wanted to tell him she didn’t mean it, but he spoke before she had the chance.

"Perhaps I should leave you to continue the journey alone."

Panic seized her, like an ice-cold grip around her heart.

"You don't mean that," she whispered. “I didn’t mean it.”

Rumplestiltskin didn’t answer her, he didn’t even look at her, and she had to close her eyes again. Her vision had started to turn bright, and she pressed her face into his chest. He didn’t stop her, but he didn’t hold her like he had before, either.

"I wouldn’t carry on if you left," she said, and he sat up straighter. “The Red Knights can catch me.”

“You have to carry on,” he insisted.

“Why?”

“You'll be safer.”

“Why would that matter to you?” Belle snapped.

“My, my, aren’t we grumpy after our nap?” He leaned down. “Bad dreams?”

Belle pressed her lips together and sunk back against his chest. She didn’t mean to argue with him, but she ached all over, and she knew he blamed himself. It wasn’t fair of her to be so cross with him.

“Don’t go,” Belle said miserably. She hated that her own voice betrayed her. It broke at the end, and she squeezed her eyes shut to push back the threat of stinging tears. This was ridiculous. They were both being ridiculous because they were dancing around their real concerns.

“I thought that’s what you wanted,” Rumple said coldly. “To have the beast out of your bed.”

“I want you _in_ my bed! Who do you think I was dreaming about? You’re...” She cleared her throat, and added quieter, “I’m waiting for you to show me you want me, too.” It sounded silly when she said it out loud.

He didn’t say anything else, but he didn’t disappear, either. Belle thought she should at least be grateful for that. She didn’t know what she’d do if he left her after she’d finally got him back. Or a version of him, anyway.

“We’ll make camp tonight,” he said at last, after what must have been nearly an hour of silent riding. Philippe came to a halt, and Belle wobbled as Rumple jumped down.

“Right,” she said quietly, voice husky after disuse. Gripping her waist, Rumplestiltskin pulled her down onto her feet, and then immediately let her go. She shook, her legs trembling, but he didn’t seem to notice. He left her to support herself against Philippe as he unfastened her bag.

He’d led them to a part of the forest where the trees were a little thinner. There’d be nowhere for anyone to hide and sneak up on them, but the canopy overhead would still offer them just enough shelter to sleep under. Rook landed nearby, on a low hanging branch that shook under the bird’s weight. Rumple left her to approach the changed-knight as he loudly cawed at them. She wondered if he could actually understand what Rook was telling them. He did seem to be listening, and then with an angry wave of his hand he shooed the bird away.

Toying with the ring he'd given her, Belle twirled the gold band around her finger as she watched him. It seemed his sour mood wasn't just aimed at her.

“I’ll keep watch,” he said as he came back to her and Philippe.

“So you’ll stay?” Belle asked hopefully.

Their eyes met for the first time in hours, and in the fading light, with his carefully crafted mask of indifference in place, she had no idea what he was really thinking. Which meant he was trying to hide something, and hiding it very well. She must have really hurt him.

“Rumple, I’m sorry.”

“I’ll stay.” He turned his back on her, ignoring her apology. “Nearby.”


	11. In the Woods

They’d set up camp in silence, in the fading evening light, and underneath the shelter of a large oak. Belle laid out her bed roll and set up her blankets, then lay under them for what felt like an hour, just listening to Rumplestiltskin pacing back and forth.

She felt terrible. Not just because she was still sick, but because she’d clearly hurt him. Belle hadn’t meant to. She never wanted to hurt him, but being so uncomfortable had made her irritable, and so had the knowledge that he was blaming himself for her being so ill. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t need to keep slipping on the mask of the imp to pretend that he didn’t care about her, or to deal with her sickness. It didn’t help either of them.

Belle had finally fallen asleep, once it was dark and the pacing had stopped, but it wasn’t a deep sleep. She’d kept her travelling clothes on, minus the boots, out of an unwillingness to undress in the middle of the woods. They weren’t comfortable to sleep in, and then there were the sounds of the forest’s nightlife. A twig snapping nearby, an owl whoing, or even the cool night breeze against her face were all enough to briefly pull her out of sleep. Occasionally Philippe would snort, and Rook would caw, but it wasn’t until she heard a rustling and something falling down next to her, that Belle really woke up.

It was still dark, and in the moment it took for her eyes to adjust she couldn’t see a thing. The moon was overhead, casting a soft, silver blanket across the forest floor, and the man sitting beside her. Rumple hadn’t noticed she’d woken up yet. He sat with his back against the oak’s trunk, twirling something in his hand, and Belle couldn’t pull her eyes away from him. He looked so sad, so unguarded. It was the first time, in their three weeks together, that she could clearly see the man she’d once known. He looked tired, and just as lost as she’d felt before he’d come back to her.

Her breath caught when she realised what it was he was looking down at so intently. Gripped between both hands, and twinkling gently as he turned it in the moonlight, was her chipped cup. Belle’s first instinct was to reach out to him, but she stopped herself at the last moment. This was a private moment, something he hadn't meant for her to see. If he needed time to think, she didn’t want to take that away from him.

“I know you’re awake, dearie.” Belle jumped, and just like that the imp was back and the sadness was gone.

“You don’t have to pretend,” she whispered, catching him by surprise. A flash of uncertainty widened his eyes, but it was gone a second later, replaced by a forced smile as he set the cup aside. He didn’t fool her. He set the cup aside with such care, that it completely ruined his otherwise mocking tone.

“Whatever do you mean?” he drawled, pushing himself to his knees, but Belle acted fast. She pushed herself up and grabbed his leg, stopping him. Looking down at where her hand rested on the side of his boot, Rumple seemed torn between shaking her away and sinking back down to sit beside her.

“Stay with me,” she pleaded. “I want you here, Rumple.”

“Pretty words to win me over?” He was trying to mock her, but it lost its punch when he did as she wanted and sat back down.

“No,” she answered, meeting his eyes. “No pretty words. I prefer actions.”

“Actions?” He came closer to her, kneeling over where she sat.

Belle could hardly breathe, all she could manage was a nod, before he dipped down and pressed his lips to hers. She felt giddy. A permanent smile spread across her face, and only widened when Rumple pulled back to look at her. There was a warmth building in her chest, despite the chill of the night. It thawed away the ice that had formed between them, leaving Belle with only one thought.

“Kiss me again,” she said, barely above a whisper, and he did. His lips found hers without hesitation, almost pushing her backwards, and Belle clung on to him. She pulled him down into the bed with her, in a tangle of blankets and his jacket, which she half-pulled off before she was pinned underneath him.

“Belle,” he gasped as he broke their kiss, sending an excited thrill through her. “You’re not well.”

“I’m well enough to know what I want,” she assured him, stroking his hair from his face. Their eyes met, and she could see the longing in them, and the restraint. “What do you want?”

“I want...” He paused, and Belle gave him a nod of encouragement. “To make you mine.”

“I’m already yours,” she said quietly, bringing her knees up around his waist. “And you’re mine.”

He seemed surprised by her willingness to open herself to him, even now. A corner of his mouth quirked upwards, making Belle smile up at him, and he nodded.

“Yes,” Rumple agreed, leaning closer to her lips. “Yes, I am.”

He kissed her again, lowering himself onto his elbows, and Belle wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down on top of her. A small part of her wished that they’d done this in the privacy of the inn. She wanted to feel his skin against hers, not the weight of his heavy leather pressing down against her bodice, but she wasn’t quite brave enough to pull apart her laces in the middle of a forest.

“I can use magic,” he told her, as if he’d read her mind, but Belle suspected he simply wanted the same thing she did. “Just a... little shielding spell.” His teeth tugged her lower lip, teasing her. “To hide us.”

“Rumple,” she began to protest, but he silenced her with peppered kisses down from her mouth, along her jawline and the curve of her neck. Her skin was already flushed, but she felt an even greater heat build within her when his lips reached the dip between her breasts.

“Yes,” she whispered, giving in.

“What was that?” Rumplestiltskin asked, his cool breath fanning across her burning skin.

“Yes,” she repeated, louder. “Use magic.”

A triumphant grin broke out across his face, and within seconds the air rippled and crackled around them, like heat rising from a candle. It was the only thing that managed to pull her dazed mind away from Rumple. The stars and moon, peeking through the canopy above them, blurred for a moment, until the magic settled and everything slipped back into focus.

“We’re hidden?” Belle asked, and as soon as he gave her a satisfied nod, she started pulling at her laces. He lightly swatted her hands away, and she bit her lip as his fingers worked to tug her laces free of her bodice. She was panting, her chest heaving, and the cool night air against her slowly exposed skin was unexpectedly soothing.

“Oh, Belle,” he marvelled, pulling the materiel apart and taking in the sight of her bare beneath him. “You’re beautiful.” His thumb stroked over her lower lip, where it was pinched between her teeth. “So beautiful.”

Holding his gaze, she took his thumb into her mouth and sucked on it. The magic in his hands tingled pleasantly against her tongue. She could taste something almost metallic, and his claw scratched the roof of her mouth, but she didn’t mind. Humming as she swirled her tongue against the pad of his thumb, she could see the exact moment that the surprise in his eyes darkened to lust. His breathing quickened, and he pulled his hand from her mouth with a satisfying _pop_.

Twirling his hand in the air, Rumple made his jacket and waistcoat disappear, and she wished he’d do the same with her own clothes. He lowered himself back down onto her and claimed her mouth again. His warmth seeped easily through his silk shirt, where it was pressed against her bare chest, but she still shivered with want for what lay underneath his clothes. She hugged him tight against her, wrapping her legs around his waist as his tongue parted her lips.

His hands slipped up her sides, and the soft press of cloth and leather against her faded away, making way for the feel of his warm skin pressed flush against her own. Belle squealed in delight when she realised what he’d done. She broke their kiss and looked down, to where her breasts were squashed against his naked chest.

“Impatient?” She teased, smiling up at him.

“Aren’t you?” Rumple smiled back.

There was a look in his eyes that gave her pause. Beyond the amazement in them, which she couldn’t understand, there was something older. An ancient darkness stared back at her, something as old as the woodland around them, and she reached up to cup his cheek with both hands.

“Touch me,” Belle whispered. She wanted to leave no doubt in his mind that she wanted him. All of him.

Leaning up, she pressed another kiss to his lips as his hand slipped down between them. He found the wetness between her legs, and she smiled when he groaned into their kiss. She rocked her hips up into his hand as he started to draw frustratingly slow circles over her mound with his fingertips. It was enough to stir her desire for him, but not enough to take her near the edge.

“Rumple,” she moaned, breaking their kiss and arching her back, “Please.”

“Please?” He teased. “Do you want more?” Belle nodded, and he trailed his lips down from hers to nip at the side of her neck. “Belle?”

“I want more,” she agreed in a gasp, tipping her head back to expose her neck for him. He nipped at her again, and kissed the spot where his teeth had grazed. “I want you.”

"Is this what you dreamt about?" Rumple asked lowly. She could barely remember that dream now, but she was sure it had involved him and his wandering hands, and nodded eagerly.

"Yes," Belle panted, a little, mischievous smile tugging at her lips. “That, and _this_.” Before he could pull back to question her, Belle reached down and took his cock into her hand. She hadn’t dreamt about that at all, but if he was going to tease her, then she’d tease him back. He was already hard, and she gave him a couple of light, teasing strokes, making him gasp against her throat.

“Tell me,” he breathed. The slight tremble in his voice sent a chill through her. It thrilled her to hear just how much she could affect him, with just a few little flicks of her wrist.

“I got on my knees,” she said, as she continued to caress him. “For you.”

“Belle,” Rumple groaned, his voice growling low in his chest, and she could feel it rumble through her.

“Rumple,” she whispered back, brushing his hand away and lining the head of his cock up with her wetness. “Take me.”

He didn’t need any more prompting. His hips rolled forward, letting her slowly guide him inside her, until they were fully joined. He filled her so perfectly, and Belle linked her ankles behind his back, pulling him in even deeper. She had no idea if his shielding spell would also hide the noises they made, but she was beyond caring. The heady moan that escaped her as Rumple began to buck his hips against her would already be enough to give them away to any passersby.

“I’ve missed this,” she sighed. Over a week of waiting for him to show her that he wanted her too had been awful. She’d missed his lips on her neck and his hands on her body. Her head still hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pleasure he was starting to build between her legs.

“I’ve missed you,” he returned, pressing kiss after kiss to her neck and shoulder. His breath, escaping him in quick pants and moans, brushed against her skin and made her smile.

He moved so slowly and gently inside her, that it didn't at all match the darkness she'd seen in his eyes; the same dark energy that she could feel circling around him. It reached out to its twin in her heart, which thumped fast and pounded in her ears, but it didn't frighten her. It was very hard to care about much when he was making her feel so good, and how could she be afraid of being pinned underneath the Dark One when he was so careful with her?

Tugging on his hair, Belle pulled him up for another kiss. His lips were so warm and soft against her own, and as he parted them she let her hands drift lower. She felt over Rumplestiltskin's slim shoulders, and the scales on his back. It was fascinating to her ever-curious mind, how different each part of his body felt. The scales on his back felt tougher than the softer skin of his stomach, that kept brushing against hers every time he pushed inside her, and the muscles in his back rolled against the palms of her hands.

She held him tighter, wanting to feel every little detail of his body, before his hand gripped her breast and she broke the kiss with a moan.

"Rumple," Belle whispered, gasping against his lips.

"Hmm?" She didn't think it was possible for a hum to sound amused, but it did and she couldn't stop herself from smiling up at him. His thumb, the one she'd taken into her mouth, teased over her nipple, sending little, excited ripples through her.

"That feels nice," she muttered, arching her back up into his touch. He pressed his forehead against hers, his warm breath mixing with her own. It was almost too much. Her racing heart felt like it could burst with the sudden realisation of how close he was; that he wanted her and wasn’t going anywhere.

“I love you,” Belle whispered before she could think to stop herself. She tried to find his eyes in the darkness of the night, but she couldn’t see much. All she knew was that he was silent, and maybe she’d ruined the moment, but he pecked a kiss to the corner of her mouth and she wanted to cry.

“And I love you,” he crooned. “Oh, Belle.” Somehow, even with their faces so close and with black all around them, he knew how she felt. His hand left her breast and she felt his thumb brush over her cheek. She hadn’t even realised a tear had escaped. “Come for me.”

“Rumple,” she said in a shuddering breath.

“That’s it.” His hips started to work against hers quicker, and Belle tightened her legs around him, clinging on to him. “Let go, Belle.”

The pleasure built between her legs quickly, escaping her in little gasps and groans, until her whole body was arched and taut beneath him. She was so close, and all it took for her to come undone was the sound of his exerted grunts in her ear. A burst of pleasure shook through her whole body, making her hold him even tighter. The headache and queasiness that had plagued her for days were forgotten, and all Belle could think about or feel was Rumplestiltskin.

“Let me feel you,” she whispered back to him, smoothing her hands over his hair. “Rumple.” The thrusts of his hips became more erratic, and Belle lifted her legs higher around his middle. She muttered sweet nothings into his hair, until he groaned against her neck and she felt him fill her.

They stayed like that for a moment, as they both came down from the high of their climaxes. When they broke apart, their bodies slick with sweat, she felt a cool breeze lick against her damp skin and shivered. Rumple collapsed beside her, his bare back blocking the cold wind from hitting her, and she rolled over onto her side to smile at him.

“I’m...” She faltered, wondering if he’d think her confession was too much. “I’m so happy I made that wish.”

He was quiet for a long, drawn out moment. Lying side-by-side, the silver moonlight fell over half his body, and Belle was thankful that she could now see him a lot clearer. She saw him search her face, and the sadness that sparkled in his eyes. He looked as though he was preparing himself to disappoint her.

“A lot can happen in thirty years,” he said.

“Oh, I know.”

“I’m not the man you used to know,” he warned.

“I know that, too.” Belle dropped her voice to a confiding whisper. “But I can still see him in there. Everyone changes, Rumple. I know that.”

“Not like me. I’ve--... I’ve let the darkness take hold. Completely.”

Belle frowned and nodded. Did he think she didn’t know? “I can feel it.”

“And you’re not afraid?”

“Never.”

He seemed to believe that, at least.

“You are a wonder,” Rumplestiltskin whispered, pulling the blankets up to cover her shoulder. “Or perhaps you’re just foolish.”

“I'm neither," she said sleepily.  “I’m no more a wonder than you are. And no more foolish.” He didn’t look convinced by her flattery, but she meant it. He was wonderful. Even if he couldn’t see it himself.

“You still see good in everyone,” he replied, with a sadness that Belle was too tired to question.

“I used to think everyone had light in them,” she admitted. “But I still see it in you.”

“Yes, I have you to thank for that,” he waved his hand, as if trying to shoo away the very idea, “little speck.”

"You already had light in your heart. I didn't put it there.”

“You keep it there.”

Belle met his eyes, and the sincerity in them. Their breathing had calmed down, but her heart still pounded heavily in her chest, and the magic-induced headache was slowly starting to creep back.

“But is it enough, I wonder?” Rumplestiltskin asked, breaking her from her thoughts. She frowned.

“Is what enough?”

“The small speck,” he clarified.

She reached out, placing her hand flat against his chest, and smiled. “Of course it is.”

Magic tingled against her shoulder, where his hand caressed her, and he took it away to move her hand from his chest. He looked hesitant, and Belle couldn’t think why until he reached into his chest and pulled something out. His hesitation turned to relief, and then uncertainty as he held a black lump out to her. There was a single, red glow, like a candle flickering alone in the darkness, and Belle realised what it was.

_His heart._

“Put it back,” she worried, pushing it back towards his chest, and he did as she said. “Hearts can change. The darkness doesn’t matter. Not to me. Not as long as there’s light.”

It all reminded her of the little speck of darkness she’d created in her heart, for him. She kept the light in his, but she’d welcomed darkness into her own. They’d created a balance in one another, of neither fully good nor fully bad, and she was too tired to care about the darkness. Only the light mattered.

Scooting closer to Rumple, Belle put her head under his, her cheek over his beating heart, and wrapped her arm around his waist. Tiredly, she thought about reminding him to take down the shielding magic that still hid them, but she wasn’t ready yet to break that spell. For now, she was content to be hidden with him, with their naked bodies pressed together as she slept.

“Goodnight, Rumple,” she said drowsily, just awake enough to feel his arms hug her close and his face buried in her hair.

“Goodnight, Belle.”


	12. Chivalry isn't Dead

The days passed quickly as her sickness began to subside. It hadn’t gone completely, she was still shaky on her feet and lightheaded if she stood too quickly, but it was enough for her to travel more comfortably.

The previous day, they stopped in a little village to buy food. Rumple hid in the trees with Philippe while Belle rushed off to the market stalls. It felt good to stretch her legs, and moving around freely made her feel a little better.

She only felt faint once, on her way back to Rumple as she carried her basket full of breads and cheeses. Belle had been half-hoping that Rumplestiltskin would see her stumble and come to help her, but he never appeared. That in itself wasn’t too worrying, she had told him to hide, but she could hear voices. Against the wave of dizziness that wanted to overtake her, Belle hurried forward to the trees and nearly tripped over a root when she spotted Rumple.

He was leaning back against a tree, the same one he’d tied Philippe’s reigns to, and talking to a small child. The boy, who couldn’t have been any more than five and who was dressed in old and worn clothes, clearly wasn’t afraid of him. He babbled away about the big horse, while Rumple watched him curiously, rubbing his fingers together. The boy reached a tiny hand up to Philippe’s muzzle, which didn’t worry her too much. Philippe was a gentle creature, and she knew Rumple wouldn’t let either of them come to harm. The horse sniffed his hand and the boy giggled, but that wasn't what caught Belle's attention. She watched Rumple as a soft smile pulled at his mouth, even as he pressed his lips together and tried to hold it back.

The boy looked at him to thank him for letting him see the horse, and Rumple reached out to pat the boy on the head. Belle felt the crackle of magic in the air, and gasped when Rumple took his hand away. All of the holes and rips in the boys clothes were mended without any visible stitches or patches. Before the boy noticed, Rumple gave him a light push on the back and sent him on his way back to the village.

He had a natural paternal streak that even his darkness couldn't quash, and the thought made something flutter in her stomach.

Giddiness gone, replaced with a warmth she couldn’t name, Belle greeted Rumple with a kiss on his cheek and they carried on with their journey. She tried not to think about the boy again, because every time she did she found her mind wandering to ideas of seeing him as a father. But those thoughts stayed with her for the following days, especially as Rumple continued to help her every time she needed it, and even at times when she insisted she didn’t. After she’d given in and let him use his magic again, he’d been there with fresh glasses of water, or a magically-cleaning bucket if her stomach felt queasy again.

It all helped to make Belle more certain that he wouldn’t leave her, not for good. So when he mentioned leaving to make a deal, three days later as they were entering the Dark Forest, Belle found that she didn’t mind. She trusted him to come back.

Philippe was walking at a relaxed pace through the trees, and Rumple was sat behind her with his hands on her hips. The treeline grew denser, now that they’d left the Enchanted Forest, the nights were even darker here, and every morning and evening, a thick fog settled around them. It was afternoon when he told her about his plan to leave, and she didn’t like the idea of riding alone through the fog.

“What sort of deal?” Belle asked.

“A very important one,” he answered, making her roll her eyes.

“So important you’d leave me in these woods alone.”

“You have the ring I gave you,” Rumple reminded. “It’s not a useless bit of decoration. I told you it would protect you, and I meant it.”

“That doesn’t stop me from being scared.” She adjusted her hands on Philippe’s reins, and tried to ignore the way Rumplestiltskin’s hands tightened on her hips. “And I’m scared for you. I don’t know where you’re going, or who you’re going to meet. I don’t know if _you_ will be safe.”

“It’s better if you don’t know,” he said. “But you will. In time.”

Knowing that that was the best reassurance she’d get, for now, Belle sighed and nodded. He wasn’t usually so secretive about his deals, so it had to be something important. She just had to trust that he’d be safe and return to her quickly.

“The ring will tell me if you’re in danger,” he tried to sooth.

“It’s you I’m worried about now. I can defend myself, Rumple,” she insisted, not unkindly.

“With that dagger of yours?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Do you have another weapon I don’t know about?”

“Hmm... Can you reach my pillow?”

“Not planning a nap, are we?” he teased, moving behind her, and reached around to place the pillow in her lap. “Might make defending yourself a little tricky.”

“I have a plan,” she answered simply. Rumple took the reins from her, as Belle folded the pillow in half and tucked it underneath her cloak. It fit snugly between her stomach and the heavy material, and she smoothed her hands over the bump.

“A plan to… pretend you’re expecting?” he asked in her ear, and the curiosity in his voice made her smile.

“Chivalry isn’t completely dead,” she announced. “Not even in this land.”

“Ah. So you’re going to play the damsel in distress,” he changed his voice, mimicking the accent of a highborn lord, “And hope your noble attackers have mercy on you.”

“Something like that,” Belle agreed. “At the very least, it will give them pause.”

“You sound very confident of that, dearest.” He sounded less-than certain himself.

“I’ve done this before.” She pat her stomach and took the reins back. “Remember the baker I told you about?”

“The one you stole from.”

“Mhm--” Belle paused as Rumple’s arms snaked around her waist, and his hands rested on her fake stomach. She had to fight away the memory of him and the boy. “I…” She cleaned her throat. “I got caught, eventually. He only let me go because he thought I was expecting a child.”

“You lied,” he gasped, pretending to be scandalised. “You should be careful, toying with the darkness like that.”

“Is it toying with darkness?” She asked sincerely. “I was starving.”

“It depends on your point of view, doesn’t it?”

They lapsed into a short silence. Belle worried at her lip and adjusted her grip on Philippe’s reins. She didn’t know if Rumplestiltskin was teasing her, or if he meant it. Lying couldn’t invite in the darkness, surely. She hadn’t lied with the intention of hurting anyone, and it hadn’t felt like she was waking the black spot in her heart. Only Rumple himself had managed to stir her little speck of darkness.

“I’ll be back before nightfall,” he said then, snapping her out of her thoughts. “Or just after.”

“Be safe,” she said, twisting awkwardly in the saddle to look back at him. It was uncomfortable, and her head started to spin, but it was worth it when he cupped her cheek and kissed her.

A breeze whipped around her, cool against her lips, and when she opened her eyes he was gone.

“It’s just me and you now, Philippe,” Belle sighed.

It was surprising how exposed she suddenly felt. Her back felt bare and cold without Rumplestiltskin pressed against her, and she was acutely aware of the loud clopping of Philippe’s steps against the forest path. Every twig he snapped and leaves he rustled, worried her that someone might hear. She’d never travelled alone on a horse before. In the decades she’d been alone, Belle had favoured travelling by foot. It was easier to hide if someone approached, and it was far less conspicuous than riding a great horse.

The grey of dusk soon started to fall, bringing with it the heavy fog of the Dark Forest. The low sun peeked meekly through the dense trees, giving her enough light to look for a place to make camp. Every noise the woodland made was beginning to set her on edge; from the shaking of bushes, the crackle of dead leaves and sticks, to the whisper of the wind through the trees.

Belle did not want to be out in the open when darkness fell.

A dark figure dropped down just ahead of her path, and she’d been so sure that someone was there, that Belle almost blamed her overactive imagination for the hooded shadow. Her first instinct was to reach for her dagger, but Philippe stopped and uneasily stepped back, shifting his weight from left to right. She tugged at his reigns instead, trying to sooth him.

“My lady.” The hooded man raised a bow, aiming an arrow her way. “Off the horse, if you please.”

“ _Excuse me_?”

“This is a robbery,” he pointed out. “Off the horse. Quick as you can.”

It briefly crossed her mind to charge Philippe straight at him. That would soon get the man out of her way, but he’d be able to loose that arrow before she reached him. Reluctantly, keeping her eyes on the thief the whole time, Belle swung her leg over Philippe’s back and jumped down. She kept one hand on the reigns, and leaned against the horse as another wave of nausea churned in her stomach. Her head span and she lurched forward.

“Oh, you’re...” She heard him run towards her as she landed on her knees. His feet came into view, just to her left, and it couldn’t have been more perfect. For once, she was glad of the price of magic.

Slipping her hand into her cloak, over the bump of her pillow, Belle gripped the hilt of her dagger and waited. He was soon by her side, placing his hand on her shoulder. She almost felt sorry for him. Almost. In one, quick motion, Belle hooked her arm behind his knee, pulled him off balance and jumped on top of him.

Stunned, the man could do no more than stare up at her as she pressed her dagger to his neck, but that shock quickly gave way to a smirk. He looked amused.

“Very clever,” he praised.

“Don’t talk.” She didn’t want to drag this out. He’d threatened her, and now she had to get rid of that threat. A dark voice rang in her ears, that sounded too much like Rumplestiltskin whispering over her shoulder, telling her to flick her wrist.

 _Just one scratch_ , it said. _One little nick and it’s done._

Belle could just picture the heavy blackness curling down her arm and clasping her hand tighter around the dagger. She could do it.

_So easily._

But it would be wrong.

_He threatened you. He has to pay._

“Wait,” the man hurried, cutting through the voice of the darkness. “Don’t I know you?”

“No,” she adjusted the knife in her grip, “I don’t think so.”

“Well, I never forget a pretty face, and you’re… you were the Dark One’s maid.”

“No, I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Just like that, the darkness was gone and Belle’s uncertainty was back. It was easy to confuse the confidence the darkness gave her with bravery, but she tried not to. She still had the upper hand on the failed thief. She could still make it safely away.

“No. No, you were there. You helped me escape, and for that I owe you a great debt.” He slowly lifted his hand to his head, the other held up in surrender, and pushed the hood back from his face. The evening light may have been dull, but she could clearly see the brown hair, beard and moustache, blue eyes, and a face that she supposed many would find handsome.

She definitely hadn’t seen him before.

“New face,” he explained when he saw her obvious confusion, “but still very much me.”

Belle remembered the man Rumplestiltskin had tortured over a stolen wand. The face she remembered and the man at the mercy of her dagger didn’t look anything alike, but she’d been around Rumple long enough to know that such a face-swap was possible.

“Robin Hood?” Belle wavered.

“The very same.” He beamed up at her, pleased at finally being recognised. “I see you finally escaped, my lady. I’m glad to see that you’re well.”

Pushing herself up onto unsteady legs, Belle held the dagger out warily as Robin slowly stood up after her. He smartly left his bow and arrow where they’d fallen on the ground, and kept his hands raised placatingly.

“There was nothing to escape,” she bristled. “He gave me my freedom years ago.”

“So, you’re--?”

“Choosing to stay with him, yes.”

His eyes flicked down to her fake-bump. She knew what he was assuming, and she didn’t correct him. She even placed her hand over her stomach and lifted her chin. He looked back up at her face.

“I hear you have Red Knights after you,” he said.

“I do.”

“And the Queen isn’t one to give up,” he continued.

“I know.”

Eyeing her, he looked to be weighing up his options, and measuring her up for something. Then, keeping his eyes on her, he knelt back down and picked up his bow.

“I’d like to offer you my services. I’m a rather fine shot, even without my magic bow,” Robin said, almost like a boast, but his smile had disappeared. “She took my wife. Marian,” he explained, knowing that it would take a lot to get her to trust him. “And, as I said, I owe you a great debt.”

“You’d be helping Rumplestiltskin,” Belle said, bringing back a little smirk to his face.

“With all due respect, my lady, I’d be helping _you_.”

It was her turn to assess him. He’d obviously determined that he could trust her, or maybe he just knew that having a common enemy could make them suitable allies.

“You know why Cora’s after me,” she said, and he nodded. “Why did she take your wife?”

“Because I tried to take something from her,” he answered immediately, to her approval. “There was a rumour she’d captured a giant. I don’t know how true that is, but she’s managed to grow a small fortune in magic beans.”

“But that’s… I knew she had _a_ bean.”

“Just one? Oh, no, she has a garden full of them.” He was frowning now, as he recounted the story, and she knew it couldn’t have ended well. “It’s a trap, of course. Designed to lure out those that wish to escape her, but… The chance to take my wife and son away from here? I really couldn’t resist.”

“You had a son,” she caught, feeling herself beginning to smile. The memory of chasing after Robin with Rumplestiltskin, and finding that he only wanted to save the woman he loved, was still vivid in her mind.

“Roland.” Robin nodded again, but his smile was sad, and Belle felt her heart drop.

“Is your wife imprisoned?”

“No.”

She wouldn’t ask him anymore, she decided. He’d said enough for her to place a little trust in him, and if he had a son - one he’d willingly given her the name of - then Belle had no reason to suspect he might betray her.

“I think we both want the same thing,” she said carefully.

“It would appear so,” he agreed. “We stand more chance of success if we work together. Even if it means siding with the Dark One.”

“Rumplestiltskin and I have a plan,” she confided. “Would you like to help?”

“Tell me what you want me to do, my lady, and I’ll gladly do it.”

“The Dark Castle,” she said, smiling back at him. “How do you feel about going back?”

Rumplestiltskin hadn’t shared all of his plan with her, but that didn’t mean that Belle didn’t have some idea of what he intended once they reached the Dark Castle. It was enough for her to suggest a role to Robin Hood; a way he could be involved and nearby when the time came to face Cora. Whenever that was.

Plan discussed, Robin excused himself with a low bow and disappeared again into the trees. She supposed he had to return to his son, and whoever was looking after him whilst Robin robbed from unsuspecting travellers.

With a sigh, Belle pulled the pillow from under her cloak and stuffed it back into the pack strapped to Philippe’s saddle.

“Well, that was interesting,” Rumplestiltskin said from behind her, full of amusement, and Belle span around in surprise. He was leaning casually against a tree, as if he’d been there the entire time enjoying the show, which he most certainly had not. She would have known if he’d been standing so close.

“How long have you been there?”

“Long enough,” he answered with a dismissive sweep of his hand, pushing himself away from the tree. “I saw the darkness talking to you.” Reaching out to her, he ran his fingers up her arm and sent a shiver down her spine that she tried and failed to suppress.

“You should have shown yourself.”

“It won't let go, you know?” Rumple said, ignoring her attempts to distract him. “Not now.”

“I can ignore it,” she insisted, uncomfortable with the knowledge that he was right.

“You can try, but the darkness can strike without warning,” he paused and took his hand back, “Like love.”

There was an intense look in his eyes that she couldn’t quite understand. She was starting to feel the darkness more and more, even when Rumple wasn’t there, and the way he was looking at her made something begin to stir in Belle’s chest. She needed a distraction. The darkness in him may have been unfettered, but she wouldn’t allow that to happen to herself.

“How did your deal go?”

"Better than expected. I got what I wanted, and they got… something else.” With a nasty smile, wrinkling his nose, Rumplestiltskin stepped up to her and mimed with his fingers the motion of falling rain. “Everything’s falling into place.”

“This is the part of the plan you won’t tell me about,” she assumed tiredly.

“Well, there is one thing I can tell you.” His smile softened, and he motioned up to the tree beside them with a flick of his hand. “A little Rook told me the Queen is still in her Summer Palace.”

“She won’t be back for some time. Not in this weather,” Belle sighed. “What about your plan?”

“This is part of the plan. It means we have time.”

“So many secrets.”

“It’s to keep you _safe_ ,” Rumple snapped, then realised what he’d said and leant away from her. He looked off into the trees, rubbing his fingers together reflexively, and tilted his head away from her. “The less you know, the better.”

“I could help you, that’s all.” Frustrated, Belle turned from him and back to Philippe. “I asked Robin to scout the woods for us. That’s helpful, isn’t it?”

Helping her up onto Philippe, his hands lingering around her waist, Rumple looked up at her and seemed to seriously take her words on board. Their eyes met, Belle’s with curiosity and his slightly narrowed, before he looked away again.

“I asked for a key,” he said at length. “As payment for my magic.”

“A key,” she repeated.

“Yes.” Rumple hopped up behind her and got settled in, before elaborating. “In exchanged, I gave the man a potion to cure his wife’s… affliction. Nasty case of being turned into a pig.”

“By you?“

“Certainly not,” he said with a dark chuckle. Belle bit back a smile.

“And what does the key unlock?”

“Ah… Now with that,” he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her back to his chest, “you’ll have to wait and see.”


	13. A Perfect Match

It took three more days of travelling, after leaving Robin in the Dark Forest, before Rumplestiltskin's castle came into sight over the horizon. Belle had spent most of that time talking with Rumple about all the things she wanted to do once they arrived. She knew it wouldn't be that simple. She could picture herself falling into a rich, soft bed all she wanted, but all the castle’s beds had probably decayed and splintered with time.

Rumple had indulged her fancies, even teasing her with the idea of a hot bath, before the spiked roofs of the Dark Castle came into view. Then he’d fallen silent and hadn’t spoken since. She tried to talk to him, but every little bit of small talk fell short of getting any reaction from him, verbal or otherwise. The only response she got, as they approached the castle gates, was when she asked him if he’d have to protect the castle with magic, and he’d done nothing more than tighten his arms around her waist.

Belle had let him have his silence after that, and it was a sombre one. Neither of them spoke as Philippe trotted up to the front of the castle, or as Rumplestiltskin gripped her waist and helped her down. Even when he left her to take Philippe off to the stables, he didn’t so much as utter a word to let her know what he was doing.

Sighing, Belle looked up to the looming silhouette of the castle. The once white walls looked grey and dusty in the moonlight, and vines had grown up around the windows. It felt different, too. The last time she’d been there, just after Regina’s curse had been cast, the loss of Rumple and his magic was obvious. It felt empty, hollow. Now there was a ripple of it beginning to swirl in the air.

Rumplestiltskin was back, and so was his magic.

Rook landed on the ground a few steps away from her, and watched her with black, beady eyes.

“I suppose he’ll free you now,” she said to the bird. He made a noise that was almost like a whistle, but had a strangely human quality to it. Belle didn’t want to imagine what he might be trying to say.

Leaving Rook behind, she stepped up to the front doors of the castle and took a deep breath. Memories of her first time arriving at the Dark Castle with Rumple played through her mind as she pushed against the doors with both hands. The heavy hinges screeched open in a way they never used to, and dust floated through the air as she stepped through them.

Inside was almost entirely cloaked in shadow. A little bit of moonlight peeked in around her in the doorway, highlighting the shape of a broken table and smashed mirror. Bits of wood and stone lay across the floor of the entrance, and Belle stepped over them carefully on her way to the great hall.

“Belle,” Rumple said in her ear, making her jump. He must have used magic to get back to her so quickly, and Belle was close to telling him off until she span around and saw the serious look on his face. He hadn’t done it to scare her.

“I’ll show you to your room,” he continued, stepping back and beckoning her to follow him to the stairs.

“ _My_ room?”

“It won’t be the dungeon,” he promised, as she hurried after him up the stairs.

“Rumple, I want you to show me to our room.” They hadn’t talked about it, and perhaps she should have known that he wouldn’t presume anything. He certainly wouldn’t take away her chance to have a space of her own, but she wouldn’t give up the chance for them to have a space that was theirs.

“Our room,” he echoed, not turning to look at her. “There’s not much in my chambers.”

“ _Our_ room,” she repeated, watching him as he walked ahead of her. He’d lost his jacket at some point between leaving with Philippe and returning to her, and she was enjoying the view. “We could pick any room in the whole castle. It doesn’t have to be one of our old rooms.”

“Yes,” he said quietly, like he was only half listening.

Quickening her pace to walk beside him, Belle chanced a glance at Rumple’s face. It was a blank mask, which with his lack of… Rumplestiltskin-ness, proved to her beyond a doubt that something was wrong. She slipped her hand into his and let him quietly lead her up the staircase and into the west wing of the castle. It took a moment, but she smiled softly when she felt his fingers curl around her hand in return.

The west wing wasn’t a part of the castle she’d really spent any time in as his maid. Her own rooms had been small, simple, and up the opposite staircase. This part of the castle was much grander. Or, it had been. Candles mounted in sconces flickered to life as they walked along the corridor, lighting up the dark mahogany walls and the faded tapestries that covered parts of them. Occasionally, there would be a gap between the tapestries, with a dark square where dust and the sun’s light hadn’t faded the wood; a place where portraits had once hung.

At the end of the long, dwindling corridor was a set of ornately carved double doors with vines and thorned roses in the same reddish-brown wood. With a flick of his free hand, the doors opened together and Rumplestiltskin led her inside. A fire burst into life in the fireplace on the far wall, bathing the room in an orange glow and a rush of warmth. It lit up a wooden, four-post bed with rich, blue bedding which looked suspiciously free of dust. At the foot of the bed was a leather chest, with her blue bag set upon their travel blankets.

Belle looked back at him, and he was studiously looking anywhere but at her.

“This is perfect,” she breathed, earning her a slight bow of his head.

“There’s a washroom through there.” He indicated towards a single door with a sweeping hand and took a step back to leave the room. “And clean clothes in the wardrobe.”

With that, he was gone, leaving her watching his retreating form and wondering why he didn’t just use his magic to disappear.

Deciding to give him some space, at least for now, Belle set about filling herself a bath. Her arms and legs both ached from their journey, but carrying the buckets of water would be worth it once she got to sink down into the warm water.

Passing the bed - _their bed -_ Belle opened the door to the washroom and was hit by a wave of steam. The whole room was warm, and misted from the heat of the water already filling the cast iron bath in the centre. She glanced back to their bedchamber doors as they closed by themselves and sighed. She’d thought he’d been teasing her about her having a hot bath when they arrived, and now he wasn’t even there for her to thank him.

Little bottles of soap and shampoo were placed on a small table beside the bath, and Belle chose a pink lotion that smelled of roses to wash her hair. She probably spent a little longer in the bath than necessary, washing away the grime and the aches and pains of their long ride, but she doubted Rumple would mind. He’d left her to disappear off into gods knew what part of the castle, and she had to keep reminding herself to leave him alone. He’d talk to her when he was ready, and share whatever it was that was bothering him. Eventually.

She dried herself off on the largest and fluffiest towel she could find, and rubbed her hair dry as she stepped back into their bedchamber completely naked. A part of her was hoping that Rumple would have returned by then, and she had to ignore the sting in her chest when she found nothing but an empty room.

As if answering her need for a distraction, the wardrobe doors creaked open to her side, revealing an array of clothes. There were more than she’d ever owned at her father’s castle, and more fine clothes than she’d seen in decades; all in warm golds, sky blues, and one or two dresses in deep red. Some of the things hanging up were more like her travel clothes, with bodices and trousers, but there was a good selection of dresses, too, in all lengths. Belle didn’t know if the magic had chosen these outfits for her or if Rumplestiltskin himself had, but the red dresses and high collars of some of the jackets were definitely his style.

Wishing to indulge just a little more, and wanting to surprise Rumple, Belle selected a nightgown made of wine red silk. She felt a warmth spread up her neck when she slipped it on and realised just how short it was, it barely covered her legs at all, and she decided to grab a long, flowing dressing gown in the same colour before she left the room.

Finding him was easy, and another assurance for Belle that he really was the same Rumplestiltskin she’d left behind nearly three decades ago. He was up in his tower, spinning something at his wheel that looked too thick to be his usual thread of gold, but still shimmered in the moonlight beaming through the high windows.

She looked around as she approached him. The cabinets and shelves that had once held vials and potions were all knocked to the ground. Tables were overturned, and she had to be careful of her bare feet on the old floorboards. The only upturned table was one near his wheel, where all of his treasures from his recent deal making were piled up.

“I should clean in here tomorrow,” she said, stepping over the pieces of a broken globe. “You don’t need to use your magic on the whole castle.”

The creaking of his wheel stopped, for such a short moment that she wouldn’t have noticed it if she hadn’t been watching him, and then he started spinning again.

“No.”

“Please. I can help.” Belle stopped behind him but he didn’t turn to look at her. He just carried on spinning.

“You’re not my maid anymore, Belle.”

“Lots of people clean, Rumple. Not just maids,” she said, with just a hint of amusement, and wrapped her arms around his middle. She pressed her chest against his back and rested her cheek between his shoulder blades. “I’ll start in the great hall then.” He stiffened in her embrace and the wheel stopped spinning.

“Don’t go in there,” he said sternly, making her frown.

“I’m not going to avoid it just because you are.”

Rumplestiltskin didn’t respond, or return her hug, but he didn’t try to pull away from her, either. He just stood there, frozen in her grasp. The tower room had fallen so silent that she could hear the beat of his heart where her ear was pressed to his back. It was thumping fast, so fast that she had no idea how he was managing to stand so still.

She couldn't understand it. He’d had his own Dark Castle in the Wish Realm, he’d told her as much. It was the last place he’d been before being taken by her wish to her realm.

 _Oh_.

“Were you in the great hall before you… came here?” Belle hesitated, and again he didn’t respond. “Rumple?” Loosening her hold on him, she stepped around to stand by his side, rubbing her hand up and down his back.

His face was a blank mask, but he stared so intently at his wheel that he gave himself away.

“Look at me,” Belle said gently. And he did. For a moment he stared at her unseeingly, as if looking right through her, before his eyes focused and he realised she’d changed.

“That colour suits you,” he said, voice breaking.

“Thank you,” she smiled. Letting him change the subject, because his silence was answer enough, Belle lifted her arm to his sleeve; in the same wine red as the silks she’d chosen to wear. “We match.”

It brought a fleeting smile to his face, as his eyes flicked down to where she pressed her arm against his.

“A perfect match,” Rumple agreed quietly.

Intent now on distracting him from the grim memory of his last day in his own castle, Belle fumbled at the ties of her dressing gown. It fell away, the silk slipping down her shoulders in a whisper, to reveal the tiny nightgown underneath. The same heat rose in her neck, leaving her cheeks just as red as their clothes, as his eyes traced over her bare legs.

“I suddenly feel overdressed.”

“Oh, you definitely are,” Belle teased, drawing a bigger smile from him. “But we can fix that. I don’t intend on spending my first night in our bedchamber alone.”

She held out her hand, but he didn’t take it. He stared at it instead, with his own hands held up in front of his chest, and rubbed his fingers together in that way that told Belle he was trying to decide something.

"Your ring," Rumple said after a moment. His voice was still gentle, unsure, but he sounded more like himself again.

"What about it?" Belle turned her hand, watching as the little golden violet twinkled in the light. She'd put it on in a hurry after getting out of the bath, and hadn't realised that she'd put it on a different finger. Like an engagement ring.

" _Oh._ I didn’t… I’ll move it." Flushing at the thought, Belle started to pull it off, but he grabbed both of her hands and tugged her closer.

“It’s,” Rumple brushed his thumb over the thin yellow band and smiled at her, “no matter.”

It was a wonder how one little smile from him could easily cool her nerves and dispel her embarrassment. Belle smiled back at him, gripping his hands in hers.

"Let's go to bed."

 

* * *

 

She awoke later that night, her thighs aching pleasantly from more than just the long horse ride there. In the dying light of the fire, Belle could see the crimson of her nightgown on the floor, along with Rumple’s shirt and trousers. The bed behind her felt cold, but she could hear he was still with her and awake. His irregular breathing gave him away.

Turning onto her other side, she found him lying on the far end of the bed, facing one of the tall windows. The curtains had been left undrawn, and through the glass she could see the first light of sunrise.

“What are you thinking about?” Belle asked. He must have already known she was awake, because he didn’t jump or flinch at the sudden sound of her voice cutting through the gloom.

“Many things,” he answered to her surprise. It was a brief reply, but enough to tell her that her conversation was welcome. She shuffled closer to him, and when he didn’t move away, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed their naked bodies together. He was cold, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d been up and out of bed before she woke up.

“What sort of things?”

“Us.” He paused. “Another version of us.”

“Oh...” She didn’t know what else to say. If that was the other version of himself that had killed him, Belle still wasn’t sure she wanted to know the details. “What were they like?”

“Happily married,” Rumple said bitterly. “With a son.”

“So we got our happy ending?”

“She died,” he said shortly. “And I stopped him from getting back to her.”

It felt like the air had been knocked out of her. She’d known, somehow, that she didn’t want to know why the other version of Rumple had killed him, and now she knew she’d been right. If he’d tried to keep them apart...

“Why would you do that?” Pushing herself up, she leaned over him and tried to see his face, but his hair kept it hidden. “You didn’t want us to be together?”

 _No_ , that wasn’t it, was it? His silence told her that wasn’t it. There’d been another reason for him to not want the happily married version of themselves to be together. The version of them that had a son and had lived a life together. Everything he hadn’t had. Everything she hadn’t had.

Belle brushed his hair back from his face. He was frowning, and she reached down to take his hand.

"I bet he found her in the end," she said certainly, drawing patterns on his upturned palm. He shivered against her and Belle smiled.

"How could you possibly know that?" he snapped, but it lacked venom. A little waver in his voice told Belle that he really wanted an answer.

"I know you,” she said with a sigh, and brought his hand up to her lips to kiss it. “You found your way back to me. I know the other you would do the same."

Rumple shifted onto his back and looked up at her. The early sunlight marked the angles of his face and the awed twinkle in his eyes. She smiled at him, as he brushed his knuckles against her cheek.

"Ever the optimistic," he said quietly. "My Belle."

"More of a realistic," she teased. "If they can be happy, then so can we."

“Not here. Not in this realm.”

“Which is why we’ll get that bean from Cora. And then we’ll leave here.”

“Together,” Rumple agreed, cupping her cheek.

“Together.”


	14. The State of Magic

It would take a while for the Dark Castle to feel like their home. It needed a lot of cleaning, and some repairs to the castle walls could only be fixed by magic, but Belle was determined to make it _theirs_.

The morning after their arrival, she unpacked what belongings she had from her blue bag. Her books were placed on the bed, one of their pages marked with the ribbon from Hatter, and she set the chipped teacup on the mantelpiece in their bedchamber. The gold coin Rumple had given her for their journey was still in her purse, and she dropped it into the cup with a soft _clink_.

She’d return the books to the library, and see if any of the others were in a good enough state to read. But cleaning the library would have to wait. There were other places that had to be placed higher on her rooms to clean, like the kitchens and the entrance hall. Maybe even Rumple’s tower, if he was going to be spending so much time up there plotting and avoiding the great hall.

He hadn’t been in bed with her when she woke up, and Belle supposed that’s where he’d disappeared to again.

It was as she was collecting up her books to go to the library that Belle felt a presence at the door and wondered if she'd been wrong. Maybe the tower stood empty, after all. The bedchamber doors opened by themselves as she approached them, and there he stood, closely inspecting the door frame with a serious frown and his hands behind his back.

“Were you waiting?” Belle asked, trying not to smile and looking at the bit of wall he’d been staring at.

“Of course not,” he answered quickly, and nodded to the stack of books in her arms. “What are you doing?”

“I want to see the state of the library.” Stepping around him, the chamber doors closed behind her and she felt the same presence following after her. She wondered briefly when the dark cloud that followed him had become so familiar to her. It was almost a comfort now, because it meant that he was near.

Falling into step beside her, and with a pleased smile on his face, Rumple took the books from her without a word. Belle narrowed her eyes at him playfully, and he smiled even wider.

“What are you up to?”

“Me?” he asked, in such a way that she could imagine him innocently putting his hands to his chest, if he wasn’t carrying her pile of books. “Whatever do you mean?”

"I can tell when you're up to something, Rumplestiltskin," Belle told him, and he looked away from her with the expression of a man who was trying too hard not to smile. "What is it?" she pressed.

"Why don't you see for yourself?" Balancing the books on one arm with ease, Rumple waved his arm towards the library doors and they swung open to reveal the stairs beyond.

Unable to stop herself from casting him a suspicious glance, Belle mounted the stairs ahead of him and braced herself for the sight of whatever had happened to her poor library.

She was pleasantly surprised when she reached the top and saw that it was in better condition than the last time she'd seen it. The books were all on their shelves, neatly lined up and dust free, with not a single bit of damage visible on their spines. The hardwood floor had been polished, and shined in the morning light that beamed in through the high, spotless windows. Even the little bed, which she'd spend many evenings reading on, was cleaned and showed no signs of the long years that had passed since she'd been forced to leave.

"Rumple..." She rounded on him as he came to stand behind her, and threw her arms around his neck. It was a little awkward with the books between them, the corner of one dug into her ribs, but she still hugged him tight before stepping back and grinning at him. "I told you I could clean in here."

"Yes, you did," he conceded, setting the books down on the table in the middle of the room. “And I told you I could use magic.” Turning, he waved the fingers of his right hand at her, like he was casting a spell, and Belle felt her smile tug wider.

“I need to do _something_ to help,” she insisted.

“Well, there is something you can do.” Rumple leaned towards her. “Read.”

“Read?” Belle laughed. “How does that help you?”

“You can’t let all my magic go to waste, and I want...” He trailed off, probably realising what he was about to admit, and looked around the library. He took special interest in the shelves housing the books on herbology and medicines, and the gap where her books came from.

“What is it?”

“You should learn some real magic,” Rumple said, and she knew that wasn’t what he’d really wanted to tell her, but Belle let him change the subject. “If you wish to heal.”

“I can do that with plants,” she reminded, picking up the books to shelve them.

“There are some afflictions that simple herbs won’t fix.” That made her pause halfway between slipping the last book onto the shelf. It wasn’t that Belle wanted to be a great healer, but she had always been the curious sort. The idea of him teaching her something new, to expand her knowledge on something she’d spent thirty years reading about, was very tempting.

“But it would be dark magic?” Belle asked apprehensively. His fingers curled around her hips from behind, and she tilted her head back to rest against his shoulder.

“All my magic is dark magic, Belle,” he murmured low in her ear. The deep rumble of his voice sent a shiver of need down between her legs. She pressed herself back into his body and he buried his nose in her hair. It was tied in a loose braid with a thin, blue ribbon, and she hoped he’d smell the rose shampoo she’d used the night before.

“What could it be used for?”

“Oh,” he hummed, “all manner of things.”

"I can't," she whispered.

Before he could try to convince her, because she was very close to being convinced, Belle span around on her heel to face him. He took a small step back, and the little gesture was enough to tell her she'd caught him by surprise.

Smiling at him, she took his hand and closed the gap between them again.

"I wouldn’t know how," she said.

“I’ll show you.”

"But there’d be a price?"

He regarded her for a moment, his free hand moving unsure by his side. "All things worth having come with a price," he returned, giving her hand a light squeeze. "Magic is no exception."

“I’ll just have to find something else to do while we’re here.” Her smile turned playful. “Now that you’ve already cleaned in here. What am I to do instead?”

Pursing his lips, Rumple spread out his hands and shrugged. “Read?”

Belle laughed. "Much as I'd love to, I don't want to read the entire time we're here."

Noting the question in her voice, Rumplestiltskin dropped his hands and quirked his lips up into an amused smile.

"Just some of the time, then," he teased, making her smile back. "There is... something."

"Oh?" Belle asked dubiously. His mood had been hard to gauge since they arrived at the castle, and now she wasn't sure if his second suggestion would be any more useful or serious than the first.

"It's this way," he said, beckoning her to follow him with the crook of his finger. She followed him without question, out of the library and down the winding staircase. It wasn't until he avoided the great hall and took a detour through the kitchens that she realised where he was taking her.

Lifting his hands to his sides, the doors to the gardens opened against the invisible force of magic, and Belle wished she'd stopped to grab her cloak. The weather was only just starting to warm up. Patches of snow still lay on the ground, and a chill wind whipped up around her thin skirts. She hurried to catch up with Rumple and linked her arm through his. He looked down at her, his teasing broken by surprise, and then replaced by amusement again.

They walked arm-in-arm, around the dead flower beds and along the weed-filled path, to the greenhouse built into the side of the castle. The glass windows hadn’t been cleaned in decades and were covered in green slime and moss. Where the moss hadn’t grown, the windows were discoloured and cracked. Even the little bit of brick wall underneath them was crumbling.

Belle looked up at Rumple doubtfully, and he looked disappointed by her reaction. Again he lifted his hand, and the door to the greenhouse creaked open with his magic. Slipping his arm from hers, he stepped back and let her walk in ahead of him.

The inside was just as decayed and bleak as the outside.

“Why are we--” She cut off with a little gasp as Rumplestiltskin slipped his hands over her eyes. “Rumple,” she laughed, stepping back into him. “What are you doing?”

“I thought this would be perfect for you potions--”

“ _Medicines_.”

“--You can grow your own herbs, plants. Whatever you need.”

Belle’s smile grew wider and wider as he spoke, his lips just behind her ear, but that didn’t explain why he was covering her eyes.

“Why don’t you want me to see?”

“Keep your eyes closed,” he answered, and when she nodded he took his hands away.

Listening as he shuffled around behind her, Belle started when he suddenly gripped her shoulders, then relaxed as his hands slipped down her arms. A heaviness roused in her chest, and something buried deep inside her excitedly reached out to Rumplestiltskin. She stepped backwards into him.

“Do you feel that,” he murmured, “the little seed of darkness you planted in your heart?” He asked it as if he was trying to seduce her, not frighten her. Belle nodded once and he hummed his approval.

“Good. Now imagine what you want the room to look like,” he instructed in a low tone. She tried to picture the room how it would have once been, with crystal-clear glass, and the wooden benches that skirted the edge of the room covered in plants. She imagined planters and pots filled with thyme, marigolds, and sage, with a shelf for her gardening tools, and a wild rose growing up the walls around the door.

A tingle like pins and needles ran down her arms where Rumple touched her, and collected in the palm of her hands in a warm buzz.

“This is magic,” she whispered. It wasn’t a question, and she felt him nod against her hair.

“Yes,” he whispered back, his voice so low it was almost a growl, and gently lifted her arms up. “Are you still picturing what you want?”

Belle bit her lip, trying to cling onto the scene she’d created in her mind. “Yes.”

“Then let the seed grow.”

He released her arms suddenly, and the warm buzz in her hands burst free. The force of it almost pushed her backwards, but Rumple was there to lightly press his hand against the small of her back.

The scent of the flowers hit her first, then a bright, white light shined against her eyelids and the pressure in her hands relaxed.

“Very good,” he praised, a giggle in his voice. “Very, _very good_.”

Belle’s cheeks flushed at his praise, and she opened her eyes with a gasp. The room was exactly as she’d pictured it, and yet so much more. The plants were bright with magic, and light flooded in through the glass ceiling in an unnatural way that only magic could create. There were still patches of moss on the windows, and one of the panes was still cracked, but it was still perfect.

"This is..." Belle struggled to find the words as she slowly turned around to take in the whole room, and reached out to pick one of the wild roses. "Is this really dark magic?"

Rumple hesitated, flexing his fingers in front of himself as she sniffed the rose. She knew his answer before he gave it.

"From us, yes. The root of your magic is the darkness." He held out his hand for the flower and took in a deep sniff of its scent. "And there is a beautiful darkness in you, Belle," Rumple continued, stepping up to her and hooking his index finger over the neckline of her dress. Her heart and breathing quickened. "Like this rose and its thorns." She looked down to where he tucked the flower's stem into the laces of her bodice. "Or the cold kiss of snowfall."

Her lips parted as she listened to him, and all too soon he took his hands away from her.

Filled with the rush of magic and the darkness in him that was singing out to her, Belle grabbed his leather collar and pulled him into a kiss.


	15. Quiet Nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Maplesyrup for beta'ing this chapter, and thank you to everyone who's been reading and commenting on this fic so far! I really appreciate it.

The rest of the day had been spent convincing Rumple that she could clean the tower without the use of magic, and him finally giving in when she ushered him out the door with her broom. Magic may have been a big part of his life, and an increasingly large part of her own, but that didn’t mean Belle would let herself fall into relying on it for everything. She was still able to use a dustpan and brush, and a mop and duster. She didn’t need magic.

She’d gone to bed early that night, satisfied that she’d been able to do something useful, but was woken in the early hours of the morning by a faint squeaking. The bedchamber was filled with the soft, warm glow of the dying fire, and that continuous creak that took her a moment to place.

Fighting off the pull of sleep, Belle sat up and wasn’t at all surprised to see Rumple sitting at his wheel. It was the one that had once sat in the great hall, she realised, but it showed no signs of rotting after the years of disuse.

She sighed. _Rumplestiltskin and his magic_.

“Rumple?” she asked gently. His hand faltered on the wheel, but he soon corrected himself and looked at her over his shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I don’t mind.”

Slipping on a woollen dressing gown, Belle crawled to the end of the bed and sat watching him. The dying embers of the fire kept some heat in their bedchamber, but she still felt the chill of night on her bare legs and tucked them underneath herself.

“That’s not gold,” she noted, a little confused as she watched him spin.

“No.”

“You’re spinning wool?”

“No magic required,” he answered, pleased with himself.

Curious, Belle climbed off the bed and dragged across her little reading chair from in front of the fire. He watched her instead of the wheel as she sat with him, and returned her smile once she’d got a closer look at the wool.

“It's gold,” she marvelled. She reached out to touch the yarn he’d already pulled from the wheel, and he held out his hand, indulging her curiosity. It was still wool, just regular sheep wool, but the colour of it was a yellow gold that shimmered when the firelight hit it right.

“But of course,” Rumple returned. He was trying to be playful. Belle could see the way his eyes glinted that his light teasing was only halfhearted, and there was a real reason he’d moved his wheel into their bedchamber in the middle of the night.

“What are you trying to forget?” she asked carefully, brushing her fingers over his where he gripped the yarn. He didn’t answer her. His reptilian eyes fell back onto his wheel, and the unspun wool beside it, and she could tell he wouldn’t answer. Whether because he couldn’t, or he simply didn’t want to, Belle couldn’t say.

“Reading helps me to forget,” she offered, smiling when his eyes snapped back to her face curiously. “You can get lost in books. You can pretend to be someone else, battle monsters, and fall in love.”

“Another world.” He nodded slowly, thinking. “And do you wish you were someone else?”

Belle frowned and put her hand on his thigh. “Why would I wish that?”

Tentatively, with the air of a man who thought she might disappear if he touched her, Rumple put his hand over hers. His palm was warm, and he watched their joined hands as he hooked his fingers through hers.

“You wished for me,” he reminded.

“Because I want you,” she said softly. “I don’t want to be someone else.”

“But you want to leave this realm.”

“A realm where we’ve all been forgotten?” Belle nodded sadly and shuffled to the edge of her chair, closer to him. “Once Cora has the dagger and we have the bean,” she paused, “could we go to your realm?”

“No,” he answered curtly, and offered no other option or explanation. She sighed, accepting that that was a topic for another time.

“When do we leave for her castle?” she asked instead.

“Whenever she’s due to return to the castle herself.” Playing with the yarn in one hand, Rumplestiltskin turned her hand over and inspected her wrist. “I’ve sent Sir Rook to keep an eye on her.” He said the title with a wrinkle of his nose, his voice laced with sarcasm.

“So it could be some time,” Belle assumed, watching him closely.

“At least a month,” he agreed absently. Pulling out a length of the yarn, Rumplestiltskin wrapped it twice around her wrist and cut the wool with a pair of scissors she hadn’t noticed before. “You’ll have to busy yourself with books and magic until then, dearest,” he continued, as he wrapped both of his hands around her wrist.

“While you carry on with your secret dealings,” she complained.

“It’s better they’re kept a secret.” She felt the itch of the wool melt away and soften, into something cool and smooth. When he pulled his hands away, with a pleased smile and wave of his hands, she saw the bright gold band he’d created for her.

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” Belle chuckled, lifting her arm to inspect the delicate band. “You didn’t have to do this, Rumple.”

“I know,” he muttered, and surprised her by putting his finger under her chin. He tipped her head back to look at him, and he smiled when he saw the happy grin on her face. “I wanted to.”

 

* * *

 

For the next week, Belle’s days were much the same. She’d read in her library, tend to her magical herbs and flowers, and take an apple or two to Philippe. Tea time and the evenings were her time with Rumplestiltskin, when he’d leave his tower or be back from making another deal.

Some evenings she would sit with him and read, while he played and experimented with magic. Other nights, Belle would knit the golden wool he'd made and watch him as he spun more. She'd been taught sewing as a young girl, and she'd been good at that, but her abilities with needles were limited and she settled for making a simple blanket.

It was soothing to create something to the soft creak of his spinning wheel. She could understand why Rumplestiltskin spun so much, but those evenings were getting fewer now they were coming into their second week in the Dark Castle. Rumple was growing so busy that some evenings Belle went to bed alone, after reading or knitting alone.

Determined not to spend another night by herself, Belle slipped into a warmer dress and tried to reassure herself that it wasn’t her keeping Rumple away in his tower. It was his work.

She looked at herself in the mirror and took a deep breath. She’d worn a new outfit almost every day thanks to Rumple and his indulgent magic, but this simple blue dress was her favourite; even if the bodice was becoming a snug fit around her middle. She turned left and right to get a better look at herself in the mirror and sighed. She'd gained a little weight since arriving at the castle, but she couldn't say she was surprised. She was no longer on the run, and she could eat regular meals now without having to save money or catch something first. All thanks to Rumple.

Pulling herself away from the mirror, Belle grabbed her book and knitting things, and headed up to his tower.

It grew colder the higher up she went, and she could hear nothing but the tapping of her own shoes on the stone steps. She knew before she reached the top that he wasn’t there, but she had to see for herself before she let the sinking disappointment settle in her chest.

The room was empty. Vials filled with brightly coloured liquids sat untouched, all of the books scattered across his workbench were closed, and a single candle burned low in the window. She sighed and turned to leave.

“ _There_ you are.”

Belle nearly crashed into him and he steadied her with his hands on her elbows, amused.

“I have something to show you,” he continued eagerly, ignoring the fact that it was _her_ who’d gone looking for _him_. With a flip of his hand, all of the candles in the room burst into life, bathing them both in a warm, yellow light.

She set her book and knitting down on one of his work tables, and let him guide her by the arm to a cabinet at the far side of the room. He opened the doors with a large sweep of his arms, and reached inside for two, silver daggers. _His_ dagger and its twin. That must have been why he’d been spending so many nights away from her; he was busy creating an identical replica to give to Cora.

“Now that you know magic,” he said theatrically, flipping one of the daggers around and handing it to her handle-first, “You might be able to tell the difference.”

“I already know which is the real one,” she said with a smirk, accepting the dagger from him nonetheless. “Without the use of magic.”

Belle hadn’t used magic again since that morning in her greenhouse, but it had opened something between them. Now she could always feel the shadow of their darkness reaching between them, and the two halves called out to one another

He frowned, and the expression wasn’t too dissimilar from that of a disappointed child.

“ _How_?”

“If you wanted this to be fair, you should have handed me both daggers.” Belle used the fake dagger to point at the one he was still holding. “That’s the real dagger. If you'd given--"

"Yes, yes," he snapped, irritated that he'd given himself away.

She looked down at the twin blades, both of them were deathly sharp and just looking at them made Belle feel uneasy. It was almost unthinkable that one of those daggers could control Rumple, and she hated the idea of anyone using that kind of power against him. Even if they would only be holding the fake.

"So, we give Cora this," she held up the fake dagger, "take the bean and leave?"

"Ah, no."

Belle frowned. "What?"

"It's not that simple,” he said with a flick of his wrist. "I seem to recall a certain hooded Robin telling you what happened to his _beloved_." Rumple drawled the word, almost mocking it, and placed his hand over his heart. "Cora won't give us a bean."

"Then why are we doing this?"

"Oh, I still intend to get that bean. I just need a way into the castle." He pointed, as if pointing their way through the castle doors, and Belle's frown softened. If only a little.

"It's a trap," she concluded.

"Precisely!”

“You'll be prepared to do whatever you’re told to do?” Belle asked warily, this new twist to his plan not sitting well in her stomach. “To convince them the second dagger is real?”

"We'll just have to wait and see, won't we?" And that was the end of that. He waved his hands, dismissing her question, and slowly handed her the real dagger.

“What do you feel?” Rumple prompted.

Carefully taking it from him, Belle tested the weight of the dagger in either hand. They felt the same, at first. Both had a good physical weight to them, and a spark of magic that may have convinced most people the fake blade was the real thing, but not Belle. Their hearts were too intrinsically linked now for her to be fooled.

She could feel the blade that wanted to control her True Love calling out to her. The weight of it turned into the weight of something unseen and dark. It crept up her arm with invisible tendrils, whispering in her ear to lift the blade and give a command.

"Do you feel that?" Rumplestiltskin’s low voice - a real, spoken voice - made her jump. He reached out to her as the dagger did, brushing his nails across her throat, and cupped the side of her neck. “Tell me, Belle.”

A black shadow started to spread around her. It was dark in the tower, save for the flickering candles, but the shadow swallowed them up one by one. Soon, all Belle could see was Rumple standing before her, his reptilian eyes wide and drinking her in.

“I can feel it,” she whispered with a weak little nod. His eyes flicked between her face and the hand holding his dagger, like he was daring her to give an order. She licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry, and tried to speak again. “Rumple...”

“Do you want to use it?”

 _Yes_ , the darkness hissed inside her head.

“Belle?” Rumple soothed, running his thumb along her jaw. “Do you want to use it?”

_Yes!_

“ _No._ ” The dagger was firmly rooted into her hand, and Belle had to fight its pull to pry her fingers off it. It clattered loudly on the floor, cutting into the wooden floorboards. Light filled the tower again, and the candles flickered brightly as though they’d never been snuffed out. The darkness faded like a banished shadow and Rumple turned to pick up the dagger, but Belle stopped him with her hand on his arm.

“I don’t like the idea of other people doing that to you,” she promised, reaching up to stroke his cheek. “Why would _I_ do that to you?”

Whatever dark lure had fallen over them had gone, and Rumple stared at her in surprise. A part of him, however small and hidden away, must have expected her to want to control him. Who would turn down power like that?

“Leave it,” she said gently, throwing the fake down beside the real one. “It’s good enough to fool Cora and her knights,” Belle went on. “And that’s all that matters.”

“But it didn’t fool you,” he commented, unsure.

“No, it didn’t fool me. But it’s not me you need to convince.” She smiled a little at him and reached for his hand. He needed a distraction before the darkness sucked them both back in, and Belle had just the thing.

Leading him away from the daggers, she picked up her knitting and turned back to Rumple with an overly-cheery smile.

“What do you think?” she asked, holding it up.

“It’s fine work.” He nodded thoughtfully and ran a clawed finger over the golden wool. He was grasping onto the distraction as tightly as she’d held the dagger. “Is it for someone?”

“What?” She hadn’t expected that.

“It’s… child-sized.”

“Wh-- _No_. No, it’s just...” Belle trailed off and looked down at the blanket helplessly. “I’m practising.”

“I see.”

With a heat creeping into her cheeks, she hurriedly put the knitting back down and grabbed her book instead. She’d tried hard to put that thought out of her mind. She didn’t want to think about the life they could have had; a happily ever after with a child. The mention of a child, any child, caught her off-guard and she held the book tight to her stomach.

“I’ve missed reading with you,” she said, flailing for another distraction. He was looking away from her; from the high windows, to the tables filled with magical objects and experiments, he looked anywhere that wasn’t near her.

“And watching you spin,” Belle added, and felt a little thrill of hope when he glanced at her. “Will you come to bed?”

Considering her question, Rumple turned towards the abandoned daggers, and back to her discarded blanket, then nodded warily. “Yes.”

“Great!” Breaking into a bright smile, she grabbed his hand and all but dragged him from the tower.


	16. Hooded Guests

Rumple was gone when Belle woke up, and she felt nauseous. Too nauseous to want to climb the stairs of his tower, or spend any time in that stuffy room. She needed fresh air.

Trying not to let her disappointment eat away at her, she dressed for the day in a simple blue bodice and a pair of leather trousers. It was one of the outfits he’d given her that was more to his style than her own, but it was a cold morning and the leather was warm. The matching jacket was more to her taste. It was high-collared and brown, with bronze thread stitched in an intricate floral design; roses, poppies, vines, and thistles reached around the sleeves and down the body. It reminded her of something Hatter had said, about the stitching of her clothes being so precise that he could tell they were made by magic.

She slipped it on and felt a little closer to Rumple.

She’d naively hoped that once the fake dagger was complete, he would spend more time with her until the time came to go to Cora’s Castle. The queen hadn’t returned to the Enchanted Forest yet. They still had weeks ahead of them; time they could have been spending together.

With a wistful sigh, Belle left their bedchamber to start her day. She ate breakfast alone - a simple bowl of porridge because everything else in the kitchen pantry made her feel sick - then grabbed her cloak and took a couple of apples out to the stables. The air outside was still crisp and cold, but the sky was clear and the snow was less than it had been the day before. Philippe didn’t mind it. The inside of the stable was warm, his hay rack was full and clean water glistened in the trough. Rumple must have done something to keep the stable replenishing whatever the horse needed, but he still happily accepted the apples from her hand.

From the stables, she made her way around the front of the castle, towards her greenhouse. Above her, Rook flew into the tower window and Belle knew where she’d find Rumple later.

Fresh flower shoots and buds were beginning to grow along the path at the front of the castle, where patches of snow had melted away. She hugged her cloak around herself against the chill breeze, and imagined what the gardens would look like in full spring, full of colour and sweet scents.

Belle hadn’t used magic since Rumple had shown her how to in her greenhouse, but she slowed down as the temptation to use it again washed over her. She looked along the path, at the bare earth where plants had died back and nothing had grown in their place, and the urge to fill it made her stop. Creating one flower couldn’t hurt, just to see if she could manage it alone.

Closing her eyes as Rumple had instructed her, Belle tried to picture a rose. In her mind it grew tall and strong and bright red under her hand, but the magic didn't tingle in her arm as it had done before. She pressed her hand into the empty dirt and closed her eyes tighter. She thought about how Rumple had slid his hands down her arm, sending a shiver of magic through her and waking the darkness in her heart. She focused on that instead. The heaviness in her chest began to spread, and the feeling of heat shot down to her palm.

Stunned, Belle almost fell backwards, pulling her hand away just as a rose sprouted up from her handprint in the soil. It sprang to life, fully bloomed with its delicate scent.

She reached out for it tentatively, stroked her fingers over the soft petals, and picked it. The stem was covered in sharp, dark thorns, reminding her that no matter how pretty it was the rose had been created with dark magic. Without thinking, she looked up to Rumplestiltskin’s tower window and found him there, watching her from the shadows.

“My lady?”

Belle turned quickly, clutching the rose to her chest, to see Robin walking briskly from the Dark Castle’s gates. There were people behind him, struggling to catch up as they dragged a man between them.

 _No_ , Belle quickly realised as she peered around Robin, not just a man. _Captain Herz_ , in his shining armour and crimson red tunic, was being dragged up the path of the castle. She looked back up to Rumple’s tower, but he was gone.

“Where did you find him?” Belle asked, turning back to Robin and hurrying to greet their guests. The movement churned her stomach unpleasantly, but she didn’t care, not when she was about to face the man that had been chasing her and Rumplestiltskin for weeks. When she’d asked Robin to guard the woods around the castle, she’d never expected him to actually catch someone, let alone the captain of the Red Knights.

“About half a mile to the south,” he answered, gesturing with his bow to a point beyond the castle walls. “Without his horse,” he continued, “and without other knights.”

“He wanted to be caught,” Belle surmised, and Robin nodded grimly.

“I’m afraid so.”

She looked over his shoulder to his band of outlaws. The one bending back Herz’s arm was the biggest, with shaggy black hair and a beard to match. Behind him stood two men - a young one with a sword, and a tall one with a lute - and a dark-haired woman in a red cloak. She looked to be about Belle’s own age, and she smiled at her when their eyes met.

“Are you alright, my lady?” Robin worried. “You look unwell.”

Belle held her cloak tighter over her stomach. She’d forgotten she’d pretended to be expecting. “It’s nothing.”

He looked her up and down sceptically, and she could see in his face the moment he decided not to argue with her.

“Marian experienced the same,” he said simply, then stepped aside to look back at Herz. “But we’ve no time for that now. What do you want done with him?” Robin looked back at her over his shoulder. “I know Rumplestiltskin has a fine dungeon.”

“He won’t be going to the dungeon,” Belle said regretfully. She needed to gain Herz’s trust, so that he truly believed she would betray Rumple.

Stepping around Robin, he stayed close by her side as she approached the captain. He had a calm smile on his thin face, as if he’d been out for a pleasant stroll and had ran into a group of old acquaintances, not enemies.

“Is that a winter rose?” he asked pointedly, amused. “I’ve never seen one of those.”

She held the rose closer to her chest, worried that he’d somehow sense the magic in it, or in her.

“Why are you in the Dark Forest?” she demanded.

“That’s your first question? What a bore. But then, what should I expect from the Dark One’s who--” He cut himself off with a grunt of pain, as the big man twisted his arm higher behind his back. The dark-haired woman snapped her hand over the captain’s mouth, and Belle’s cheeks flushed with heat.

“Thank you,” she said, keeping her voice as steady as she could.

“No problem,” the woman returned with a kind smile. “Should I?” She nodded down to Herz, her knuckles white as she gripped his face. Belle took a deep breath, nodded, and the woman took her hand away.

“What do you want?” she tried again.

Herz eyed them all, a calculating look lifting a single eyebrow and twisting his mouth. He looked to be assessing each of them, working out who would be a threat and who he was safe to taunt. Finally, his eyes flicked back up to meet hers, his fake air of calm replaced with a cold indifference.

“To talk about the offer we made,” he answered levelly. “To give to the Queen your master’s blade.”

Her grip tightened on the stem of her rose. A thorn pricked her palm, but she couldn’t make her hands loosen their hold, and Robin placed his hand lightly on her arm. She couldn’t talk about this part of their plan in front of Robin and his men, not without giving away Rumple’s deception or letting them think she was going to betray him. But she couldn’t send them away, either. That would mean leaving her alone with Herz and his foul mouth.

“Yes,” Belle made herself say, drawing out the word and freeing her hand from the rose’s thorn. “But we shouldn’t talk about that here.”

“Yes, you see, this isn’t how I’d planned it,” Herz admitted, and the very admission looked like it pained him. “I hadn’t expected to be caught by your bandit.”

“Then who did you want to find you?” she puzzled.

“ _You_ , little maid. I’d hoped to find you in the woods, alone and afraid.” His smile returned, but it looked more like the corners of his lips were pulled up by some invisible puppeteer. “I thought he’d have tired of you by now, but no, you’ve won him over someway, somehow.”

“Isn’t that what you want?” Belle challenged, and waited for the moment that realisation lit up his eyes. He’d looked so disappointed before. Now he looked like his greatest wish was about to be granted.

“Oh, you clever thing. Forgive my disgust,” he bowed his head mockingly. “I had no idea you’d earned his trust.”

“I’m getting there,” she half-lied. “It take times.”

“No, sorry, I’m lost. What am I missing here?” Robin cut Herz off.

The captain eyed Belle, and she held his gaze steadily. She wouldn’t let him see her planning her next move, but she couldn’t have Robin blowing her cover, either.

“The captain made me an offer,” she said calmly, and even somehow managed a smile for Robin. “To free me of Rumplestiltskin.”

“But I thought you were--”

“Robin,” the woman interrupted him quietly, a hand on his arm telling him to keep quiet. Herz’s calculating gaze flicked between them, trying to read what was happening. Then he turned that same look at Belle, eyes narrowed above a thin smile.

“He doesn’t know, does he? Now I wonder what you’re hiding from me.”

“My secrets are mine,” Belle said firmly. “But I will give the queen what you asked for.”

He studied her once more, before all his suspicion was gone. He smiled brightly at her, and looked around the group.

“Great! Good talk. Does that mean I’m free to walk?”

“You are.” The idea of releasing Herz wasn’t a pleasant one, but she was sure she’d successfully sold her future betrayal of Rumple, and she needed to send him away before he could suspect the deception. She wanted nothing more than to shout Rumple and have the captain thrown into the castle dungeon, or killed. A thought popped unbidden into her head, of reaching for her dagger and doing the job herself. She pushed it back.

“Let him go,” she said, ignoring the itch to reach for her blade.

Robin reluctantly nodded to his men - the tall one, the thin one and the young one - and they escorted Herz back to the castle gates. Robin himself, and the woman, stayed behind.

“Maybe you should tell us what’s going on,” the woman said, watching the men go. At least she’d waited until they were out of earshot.

“The queen made me an offer, to betray Rumple,” Belle admitted. “It’s our only way into her castle. If we each want a magic bean, we have to make them believe I _will_ betray him.”

“But you won’t?” Robin checked.

“Of course not!” she insisted, looking down at the little bead of red where the rose had bitten into her palm. She sighed and brought her hand up to her lips.

Robin and the woman looked at one another, in a silent conversation, and the woman nodded.

“Then Red and I will continue to help you, my lady.”

Before Robin and Red took their leave, Belle invited them into the castle kitchen to collect some food to take with them. It took a little convincing, but after she tempted them with treats for Roland, Robin happily relented.

She left them to collect whatever they wanted, and made her way to her greenhouse. The scents of the herbs and flowers welcomed her, fresh and sweet and not quite as overpowering as the smell of the food in the castle pantry. The flowers were much more bearable.

She turned her rose in her hand and checked on her thyme and sage.

“There are people in the castle,” a voice sounded from behind her. The tiny space buzzed with magic, and she tried to ignore the smile that pushed its way onto her face at the sound of his voice. Rumple hadn’t been there for her when she woke up, and he hadn’t bothered with her until then. Just for a moment, she wanted him to know what it was like to feel ignored.

“I know,” Belle said steadily. “I offered them food as a thank you.”

“For what?” the confused irritation in his voice made her smile even wider. He made her smile far too easily for her liking.

“For helping us,” she reminded, and turned around to look him. There was a frown on his face to match his baffled tone. He rubbed his fingers together, uncertain, and then swept his arm through the air and grinned.

“Have you had breakfast?”

“Have you?” Belle threw back, smirking when his little frown returned. “I thought so. You should go and find something once Robin has left."

"Will there be anything left?"

Belle rolled her eyes fondly and turned back to her plants, but she couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled up in her chest. He could be so dramatic.

"How much do you expect them to take?" she asked, looking over her herbs but not really seeing them. Rumple stepped closer.

"He's a thief," he reminded.

"He has a son, and we have plenty of food." She knew he was standing behind her, but the arm that curled around her stomach still made her jump. Turning to face him, she suddenly found herself swept up in his arms and pressed against him. "What are you doing?" she laughed.

“I saw,” he said with an amused twinkle in his eyes and the smirk to match. “What you did with the rose.”

Belle’s laugh caught on a gasp. She hadn’t expected him to sound so proud, but he had, and he looked it. He held her tight and leaned so close that their lips almost brushed.

“I know,” she whispered. Her arms were pinned between them, and she looked down to the little red rose peeking out from where their chests were pushed together. Rumple’s eyes dropped down with hers, but Belle had a feeling his gaze didn’t quite make it to the rose.

“I saw you watching. I thought you might come outside."

"I would have," he assured her. They were both whispering now, and somehow that made the moment even more intimate; embracing one another in that small space, surrounded by plants created with magic. "But then I saw our hooded guests." He grinned darkly, and suddenly the imp was back. "And we need the captain alive for our plan to work."

Belle sucked in a breath and his smile widened, pleased that his meaning hadn't gone over her head. He would have happily killed Herz, but she couldn't reproach him for that. Not when she'd entertained those thoughts herself.

"We do," she agreed quietly, pushing herself up onto her toes. "I convinced him I want to be free of you."

Rumple leaned back.

"And do you?" His smile was still firmly in place, and to anyone else he might have looked self-satisfied, but Belle caught the tremor in his voice and wiggled her hands out from between them. A defeated flash dimmed the light in his eyes, until she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss.

" _Never_."


	17. Longing

Slowly, the disappointment of waking up alone was replaced with a resigned numbness. The next day was another of those lonely mornings, and she went through the motions of dressing and brushing her hair. But she didn’t eat breakfast, and instead of going outside to see Philippe or tend to her herbs, Belle pulled a robe around her dress and stomped up to Rumplestiltskin's tower.

She knew he'd be up there before she heard him tinkering away at whatever his latest project was. That wasn't a surprise. What was surprising, was seeing him bent over a collection of cogs and scraps of metal, and a look of expert concentration on his face.

Belle froze at the top of the stairs, second-guessing her desire to get an explanation out of him. She didn't want to interrupt his work -- the work that was taking priority over her -- but then he looked up and it was too late for her to leave without interruption.

Rumple gave her the briefest of smiles, so small that she wasn’t sure he even realised he’d smiled, and looked back down at his work.

“It’s early,” he commented.

Belle opened and closed her mouth a couple of times before she found her voice. “Yes, I… I wanted to know where you’d gone.”

“Why?” He continued his work, poking at some little gold case under a magnifying glass. Belle frowned and stepped further into the room.

“ _Why_?” she repeated, almost demanded. “Because you weren’t there when I woke up, Rumple. You’re never there.”

Pausing, his eyes flicked up and down her body, which was mostly hidden by her robe, and Belle crossed her arms over her chest. He looked as if he was seeing her for the first time, as if he hadn’t really registered she was there, in his tower, talking to him.

“I have work to do,” Rumple explained, fanning a hand over the odd assortment of bits of metal.

“I could help,” she said quietly. She may have had no idea what it was he was trying to build, but if it meant he’d share something with her instead of sneaking away every morning, then she’d do whatever she could. “What is it?”

He pressed his lips together and looked down at his project. His fingers rubbed together uncertainly, and with a wave of his hand and a dusting of magic, he veiled the table with a cloth. _That was a no, then_.

“Rumple--”

“Have you eaten?” he interrupted, stepping around the table. He moved slowly, purposefully, and kept his reptile-like eyes firmly on her. Belle swallowed back her disappointment, clenching her hands at her sides.

“Have you?” she threw back. This wasn’t like the day before when she had eaten breakfast and she wanted to remind him to. This was her evading his question, and he knew it. He frowned at her, tilting his head.

“Belle,” he said gently, reaching for her. She leaned into his touch as he cupped the side of her head, his thumb brushing gently over her cheek. “Is it because I wasn’t there?”

“No,” she said, and bit her lips. “Yes.” Rumple’s hand stilled, but she reached up to hold it in place before he could pull away. “And no. I’m just… I don’t feel well this morning, and you weren’t there.”

“You’re ill,” he said quietly, and she couldn’t tell if it was meant to sound like a question, or if he just didn’t believe she was sick.

“I think so. I felt the same yesterday.” Without thinking, she rubbed her hands against her poor stomach. Even the mere thought of food made her stomach roll. She was sure that, if she had eaten something, it wouldn’t have stayed down for long.

Rumple’s eyes dropping to her hands, and she watched him closely as a rush of emotions showed on his face. Belle wished she could read every uneasy expression change, or tell what he was thinking, but all of it ended with him pressing his lips into a thin line. He moved his hand from the side of her head, claws scraping lightly down her jaw, and hooked his index finger under her chin. She tried to give him a little smile, and he returned it faintly as he searched her face.

“Would you like some tea?”

Belle nodded against his hand and felt cold when he pulled it away. He stepped back, to a second table just off to the side, and moved the same hand he’d touched her with in a fluttered over the wooden surface. A tea set appeared with a clatter on top of a silver tray. She moved forward to start pouring, but he held up a finger to stop her, shooing her away. He was about to start pouring their tea, when he froze and stared down at something on the table. Belle followed his gaze, as a confused frown appeared on his face, to the little chipped cup on the tray.

She held her breath, but quickly realised that the cup itself wasn’t what he was frowning at. He reached inside and, pinched between his index finger and middle finger, pulled out the golden coin he’d given her for their first journey. His frown remained in place as he turned to her, but Belle released her breath when she saw the little smirk playing across his lips.

“I wanted to keep it somewhere safe,” she defended, plucking the offending coin from his fingers. He giggled, rubbed his fingertips and pulled his hand away.

“Safe?” Rumple repeated, amused. “Safe in a cup?”

“That cup’s been through a lot,” Belle sniffed with false outrage, and clutched the little coin to her chest. His gleeful smile softened, making her heart skip, and he turned back to the tray to pour their tea. She slipped the gold into the top of her dress, taking a tentative step closer to his side.

The water looked clear as it left the teapot, but Belle leaned over to peer into her cup and saw that the tea had a faint, soft tint of orange. Rumple passed her the cup, and watched her as she lifted it to her face. The rising steam warmed her cheeks, drifting up with the rich smell of something… familiar. Something that didn’t churn her stomach, she was glad to discover.

“Ginger?” Belle asked.

“It should help,” he said quickly, averting his eyes to pour his own drink. He’d kept the chipped cup for himself, she noted, with only a small amount of disappointment. It was her cup. She’d carried it around with her for decades. It took a moment too long to realise that maybe that was why he’d kept it for himself.

Belle smiled at the thought, and took a sip of her tea. She closed her eyes to savour the taste, which was crisp and almost too strong, but her stomach was settled and neither that nor the smell made her feel sick. She swallowed the drink with a hum of approval, and opened her eyes to find Rumplestiltskin staring at her. His own cup was clutched in both hands in front of his chest, and he stared at her - at her lips - as if he was waiting for something to happen.

She licked her lips without thinking. “What is it?”

“What?” Rumple blinked.

“You’re staring,” Belle teased, and he narrowed his eyes at her, pulling the chipped cup away as if he thought she might make a grab for it.

“I was doing no such thing,” he defended, showing his teeth and wrinkling his nose. “I wanted to make sure your stomach wouldn’t decide to return the tea.”

Rolling her eyes playfully, Belle pulled herself up onto the table and rested the warm cup in her lap.

“How did you know ginger would help?” she wondered out loud, but he didn’t answer. He looked down into his cup, cradling it close to his chest and letting the steam float up into his face. She smiled sympathetically. “Did you use it with Baelfire?”

His eyes snapped up. “Bae?” Rumple repeated, confused. “Why would you think that?”

“Well...” She shrugged, feeling silly, and took another sip of tea. “You don’t get sick. I just thought… I mean, maybe you’ve used it before to help someone. Like your son.”

“My son.”

“Yes.”

Rumple searched her face, and she couldn’t even begin to guess what he was expecting to find. They’d spoken about his boy once or twice before, and although he was clearly upset every time Baelfire was mentioned, he’d tell her whatever she wanted to know about him. Now he seemed to be closing off from her and retreating back inside himself. It wasn’t just the mornings when she felt alone. Belle was quickly finding herself left alone in other ways, too.

“Rumple,” she said gently, putting her hand over his where he clasped his cup. “You don’t have to tell me anything,” she assured him, “but you can. You can talk to me about anything.”

His eyes jumped between her hand and her face, before he reached out. His palm was hot from the tea he’d been holding, and she leaned into his touch as he stroked her cheek.

“Do you know?” he whispered. Belle frowned, despite her best efforts to keep her expression open and reassuring.

“Know what?”

Smiling sadly, Rumplestiltskin shook his head and took his hand away. “Nothing.”

Belle sighed and felt the warmth of tears spring into her eyes. She looked down, into the orange-tinted ripples of her tea, and sighed. It was a shaky, wet sigh that threatened to turn into a sob before she pressed her lips together and bit the inside of her cheek.

“You should rest,” Rumple continued, turning his back to her. “See if you can eat something later, I’ll… I’ll be down to check on you soon.”

Belle stared in disbelief at the back of his head, and his stupidly soft, wavy hair. The lump in the back of her throat made it hard to swallow or say anything, but her hurt was quickly turning into a burning anger. She pushed herself off the table, clicking her shoes loudly against the wooden floor, and slammed her teacup down. It was only a tiny, delicate thing, but it made a satisfying rattle against the saucer, and she saw his shoulders flinch at her outburst. But still he didn’t turn to look at her.

Clenching her fists, she turned on her heel and strutted out of the room with her chin held high. She wouldn’t rest. She didn’t need to rest, and she’d eat whenever she wanted to, thank you very much. He couldn’t just ignore her and keep things from her, then tell her to take care of herself as if _he_ cared.

As if it could feel her rising temper and despair, the castle slammed the tower door shut behind her, far louder than she would have been able to do by herself. She grabbed her cloaked, replaced her robe with it, and spent the rest of her morning outside. The ginger, she had to begrudgingly admit, had helped, and the fresh, cold air outside helped to cool her anger.

She checked on Philippe and spent a good hour in her little greenhouse, practising magicking up little sprouts of herbs in her planting trays, and buds of little flowers in her plant pots. She hated herself for wanting Rumple to be there, to praise her for her small feet of magic. It was that thought that finally persuaded her to go back inside. That, and she was getting cold.

Back inside the Dark Castle, Belle found a roaring fire in the grate of their bedchamber. She wondered if it was the castle’s doing or Rumple’s, and hoped that it was his. She dragged her reading chair from beside his spinning wheel, and grabbed her latest book from her bedside table. The fur of the rug by the fireplace was warm and soft under her feet as she kicked off her boots, and let the heat of the fire settle into her skin.

That’s where she settled, warm and quietly reading, when Rumple came to her some time later. He entered their chamber with a wave of magic. She felt it, but she didn’t hear the doors open or close, and deduced that he’d appeared in a haze of magic. She bit her lip and kept reading, refusing to look up at him.

He shuffled quietly around the room behind her, searching for something to do. The urge to look at him became stronger. It was as if a small, invisible line was tugging at her chin, trying to tempt her with his presence and reel her in as he stepped closer to her. She fought the pull and frowned down at her book.

“Belle.”

“Yes?” she said flatly.

“Have you eaten?”

“No.”

“Will you eat if I bring you something?”

“No.”

He didn’t say anything else. She heard him sigh and then there was silence, and she thought he must have left her again before she heard the creaking of his wheel. Belle twisted around in her chair to look at him then. He sat facing away from her, his back straight, and she watched quietly as his fingers splayed out across the wheel to turn it. His expert, delicate touches and caresses brought a warm flush to her cheeks that she knew had nothing to do with the fire, and she made herself look away again, back to her book. Not that she’d be able to focus on the story.

Instead, Belle sat and listened to the wheel spin, as she watched the fire crackle and spit. The same log burnt endlessly as they sat in silence. The magic that kept it burning, never turning into ash, told her that it was Rumple who’d lit it for her. She wondered if he’d come to the room expecting to find her, and had lit the fire when he realised she was outside, or if he’d sent the magic down from his tower and hadn’t known she wasn’t in there.

Listlessly and without looking at him, Belle set her book aside and climbed into their bed. The wheel didn’t stop, and she almost wished that it had, just so she could know if he turned to look at her. She kept her eyes downcast as she pulled the blankets over her lap and reached for her knitting. It didn’t occur to her until that point that she was knitting with golden wool made by _him_ and it was _him_ she was pointedly trying to ignore. But it was too late to put the knitting down, so she continued to knit the little blanket, and let her brain focus on what she was doing with her hands instead of the frustrating man sat on the other side of the room.

She became so distracted by that task, that she didn’t immediately realise when the wheel stopped moving. It was the feel of his eyes on her, heavy and magnetic in the way his heart called out to hers, that nudged her to stop knitting and look up at him.

The expression on Rumplestiltskin’s face wasn’t an easy one to read. There was obvious longing there, but it wasn’t lustful. She was certain that it wasn’t sex on his mind as he watched her knitting in their bed. It was something else. Something she didn’t yet have a name for.

“Are you going to talk to me now?” she found herself asking, breaking the thick silence between them.

His enlarged eyes met her face, unblinking, and without a word he stood from his stool. Belle was tempted to speak again, but her breath had caught in the back of her throat as he approached her. He sat on the bed beside her, and reached out to brush his knuckles over her cheekbone. His touch was feather-light and she pushed herself forward, leaning closer to him.

“Don’t you want me anymore?” she asked shakily, even if she knew it was absurd. He wouldn’t keep touching her or staring at her if he didn’t, but there had to be a reason for the sudden distance he placed between them.

“Do you still want me?” he returned, not answering her question. Belle found herself nodding anyway, determined not to leave him in any doubt in case that was the reason he’d pulled back from her. She pushed herself up onto her knees and shuffled closer to him.

“I do. Of course I do.”

His lips quivered as he continued to stroke her cheek, and he shook his head sadly. “Oh, Belle.”

Whatever else he was going to say, Belle didn’t want to hear it. She grabbed his collar and roughly pulled him into a kiss.


	18. Ginger Tea

She had to find out what was wrong with her.

Every day, a little before noon, a tray of tea would appear to her in the library, or their room, or the stables. It didn’t matter where in the castle she was, she would always find a freshly brewed pot of tea and their chipped cup. Sometimes it would be ginger, other days it would be sweet or bitter, but it always came with a tingle of magic and Belle wondered if the tea adjusted itself to be just right for how she was feeling.

She hadn't had a chance to ask Rumple about it yet.

This was the first morning in over a week that she hadn’t been able to keep down her breakfast, and Belle didn’t want to wait for Rumple and his miracle tea. She had to find out why she was so ill, again.

That need took her to the library, just as the sun was beginning to rise and the room was filled with a soft, dim light. She knew the books on healing well enough, but she hadn’t read through all of them, and perhaps her own illness wasn’t one that could be treated with simple herbal medicines. Ginger was Rumple’s first choice when it came to helping settle her stomach, and so Belle had a plan. Instead of searching medical books for her symptoms, she would search books about teas and their medicinal properties.

It didn’t take long. She soon found the volume she was searching for, pushed just out of reach on a high shelf. She set the little book, bound in leather, down on the library table and started flipping through the alphabetical list.

_Eyebright._

_Feverfew._

_Fennel._

_Ginger tea is good for sicknesses of the stomach, nausea caused by too much travel or…_

_Or…_

Belle picked up the book and hurried out of the library. Her heart thumped in her chest, her head swirled, and she couldn’t work out if nerves were making her stomach churn or if the _or_ from her book was.

It would be dishonest to say that she hadn’t ever considered it. She’d once imagined what could have been, but she’d stopped thinking about those possibilities after losing Rumple. Losing him meant the end of those silly little fantasies and the happiness the thought of sharing that with him had once brought her. Now it only made her feel sad and empty. Those fantasies were a painful reminder of exactly what she had lost, until now. Now she finally had a chance to make them a reality.

Her feet moved by themselves, carrying her from one set of tower steps to another, until she charged into Rumplestiltskin’s tower and made him jump. He turned sharply on his heel, holding up the little gold compass-like object she’d seen him working on nearly a week ago.

At first, they both stared at one another. His eyes were widened in shock, but softened when he smiled at her and put the golden object down.

“Belle,” he said gently.

Her own expression didn’t soften. She glared at him and marched over with determined steps to set her book down on his workbench. He stood quietly as she found the right page and poked her finger at the benefits of drinking ginger tea.

“Read it,” she said.

“I...” He rubbed his fingers together, like he was spinning at an imaginary wheel. Belle wanted to hold his hand and reassure him, but she resisted. If he’d known all along... “I don’t need to.”

“So you _did_ know.”

“It was a...” He fluttered his fingers and shrugged a shoulder. “A hunch. Nothing more.”

Belle looked down at the page, yellowed by age and damp, and swallowed the lump that had risen in her throat.

“Ginger tea,” she read out loud, voice wavering, “is good for sicknesses of the stomach, nausea caused by too much travel or--” She cleared her throat. “Or morning sickness.”

“Yes,” Rumple said quietly.

They stared at one another again, and Belle wondered why she hadn’t realised it sooner. It was still early days, but in all their time together and through all of their travelling she’d missed her monthly cycle. She’d been so happy and excited to be back with him that she hadn’t _thought_. She’d pushed away any hopes of ever having a child when she realised he was gone and _thought_ she would never get him back.

“Even if you suspected...” Belle said, trying and failing to steady her voice. He didn’t look happy. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you?”

“Yes! You should have told me.”

“And scare you unnecessarily?” Rumple threw back.

Belle spluttered. “Why would I be _scared_?”

“Belle, please.” He reached for her and she stepped out of his grasp.

“No. Why do you think I’d be scared?”

Rumple pulled his hand away from her and pressed his lips flat. She had the feeling that he thought it should be obvious why she’d be scared, and a moment later he confirmed that in a low, uncertain voice.

"You can't want," he swept his arm between them, indicating her stomach, " _that_."

"Is… is that what you really think?" she asked. Her voice sounded small, even to herself, and Rumple winced. “You have no faith in me, do you?”

“Of course I do--”

“No, you don’t,” she interrupted, wiping at her eyes. “Otherwise you would know that’s not true.”

She pressed her hands to her flat stomach, and even if she hadn’t known only an hour before, she knew now that it was true. His reaction was enough of a confirmation, and her nearly daily sickness made sense. She was angry with herself for not working it out sooner; that either of them had had to find out like this because he couldn’t talk to her or trust her.

How long had he known before she found out by herself? How long had he been avoiding her when _he knew_?

“Is that why you were avoiding me?”

He looked away from her. “No.”

“Then why were you?” she challenged. “What were you doing that was so important you had to shut yourself away in this,” she waved her hands around her, struggling for words, “this _lair_?”

“Lair?” he repeated strangely, tilting his head and watching her with unblinking eyes. “You still think me a beast?”

“No, of course not. I just--” She raked her hands through her hair. “Why have you been avoiding me, Rumple?”

He didn’t answer, and she wasn’t surprised. She stared at him with watery eyes as he worried his fingers together and looked guiltily at the floor. Whatever had kept them apart, whether it was the potential child or not, he wouldn’t tell her. Not even now.

"Is it about Cora? I can help, Rumple, just talk to me. She's been queen of this realm for nearly thirty years."

"You think you know Cora?" he asked, so lowly that it should have worried her, but she wasn’t thinking straight. "You don't."

"And you do?" Belle threw back, her heart sinking when all he did was glance at her. "You do?" He turned away from her. "How do you know her?"

His fingers played with an invisible thread in front of his chest. For a second, she thought he might be trying to work up the courage to answer her, but those seconds dragged out and she realised that she wasn't going to get a response. Instead, Rumple shifted his weight from one foot to the other and glanced away from her.

"Rumple?"

"I can... give you something," he said quietly, with a flick of his hand that she suspected was supposed to look nonchalant. It didn't. "If that is what you wish."

"Give me something?"

He looked pained when she asked him to explain, and she clasped her hands together in front of her stomach. Surely he couldn't be suggesting _that_.

"There are ways of," he fluttered his fingers in an awkward, grasping motion as he struggled for the right words, "ridding yourself of unwanted... ties."

Belle gaped at him and he looked around the room, focusing on some vague point over her shoulder. He wouldn't meet her eyes and she wished he would. She wanted him to see her hurt and anger.

“I need some air,” she gasped.

She took a step back and his jaw tightened. He looked away from her again, back at the offending book like it was somehow at fault for telling her the truth. Of course it couldn’t be his fault for not telling her and thinking she was so heartless that she wouldn’t want their child.

A hot anger flared in her chest, burning through her nerves and threatening tears. She clenched her hands and grabbed the stupid book. He reached out for her again, but she dodged his hand and hurried out of the room.

“Belle?” She kept running. “Where are you going?”

She couldn’t answer him when she couldn’t answer that herself. She needed to get out of that castle, away from him, and it was easier to keep running than to see his face if she told him that. So she kept running, and running, until she was out of the castle and charging towards the gates. They opened for her with a grating creak, and she slipped out of the castle grounds.

In her hurry to leave she hadn’t thought to stop and grab her cloak. All she wore, as she trod the path that led down from the castle into the woods, was a blue dress, silk chemise -- a gift from Rumple -- and a pair of heels she’d hurriedly put on that morning. She wished she’d taken the time to put on her riding clothes. At least then she would have her dagger. Instead, she had nothing and no one until she turned back and returned to the castle.

 _Unless she found Robin Hood_.

The thought reminded her that Herz had been found in those woods, looking for her, but at least Robin and his band of outlaws were patrolling the woodland on her behalf. If she could find them, then she’d at least have a safe place to hide until she collected her thoughts. However long that took.

But she wasn’t entirely alone now, was she? In under 8 months she wouldn’t be alone ever again, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She'd always wanted to be a mother, before Regina cast her curse and the months away from Rumplestiltskin stretched into years of bitter loneliness. The fact that she could actually have a child -- once a version of Rumple found his way back to her and they started to share a bed -- hadn't even crossed her mind. Belle was just happy to have him back. Whether he was from her realm or not.

Those thoughts carried her on through the woods, until she found her way to an odd, wooden structure. A row of snapped branches and gathered leaves were propped up against the side of a high rock face, forming a crooked triangle. It took her a moment to realise that it was a crudely made shelter, and another moment again before her feet caught up with her brain and she hurriedly stepped back.

Robin was in a group, this camp was made for one. This couldn’t be Robin and his outlaws. This was the camp of someone else.

A twig snapped under her feet, and Belle froze. She held her breath, hoping no one was around to hear her, but like with everything that day, nothing wanted to go her way. Something moved inside the shelter, and a moment later a face popped out from the shadows. They were pale, with dark circles under their wide eyes and a red hood covering dark hair.

“Belle?”

“Red?”

The woman nodded and stood up, dusting the dried sticks and leaves from her dress. Belle was quietly relieved she’d remembered her name.

“What’s going on?” Red asked. “Why are you out here alone?”

Rubbing her hands over her stomach, she took a tentative step closer to Red. She knew that, for the most part, she could trust this woman. She was among the group that had promised to help her, after all. But Belle couldn’t let anyone know that the Dark One might have a child on the way.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she evaded, and it was Red’s turn to dodge the truth. She glanced around the forest, pulling her cloak tighter around herself, and decided what half-truth she would share.

“It’s safer to be alone,” Red finally answered.

“Safer?” Belle repeated dubiously. “For who?”

“Everyone.”

This wasn’t going to work, Belle quickly realised. If they were going to work together to get anything from Cora, her and Red needed to learn to trust one another. If she wanted some time away from Rumple, just to think if nothing else, then she needed a safe place to stay. The realisation that she’d actually found that with Red and not Robin and his merry men, brought her a wave of relief. It made her eyes water.

“I’m--” Belle paused, deciding just how much she wanted to trust her with. “Rumplestiltskin and I had a disagreement.”

Red’s shoulders relaxed when she realised she wouldn’t be pushed to share her reason for being there alone. With a sigh, she stepped closer to Belle and rubbed her back. She even offered her a smile.

“You argued with the Dark One?” she asked as gently as she could through her obvious surprise.

“Unfortunately,” Belle nodded, wiping at her eyes.

“And he just let you go?”

“What?” she sniffled, and she hated the sound of her croaked voice almost as much as she hated the implication that Rumple would ever trap her. “Of course he let me go. He… He always lets me go.”

A moment of quiet passed between them. Belle worried Red would turn her away. Maybe she’d think her crazy for trusting the Dark One, or she wouldn’t want to risk him coming to her camp, but Red surprised her. She guided Belle towards her little shelter and pulled out a thick blanket.

“You could stay here,” Red suggested, wrapping the blanket around Belle’s shoulders. “But you’ll have to leave before nightfall.”


	19. Red Apples

Belle had been left alone only once since finding Red, and that was when Red went hunting and told her to search for firewood.

They hadn’t spoken much once they returned to the tiny camp. Red set to work on building the fire and skinning the rabbit she’d caught, and Belle tried not to be sick. She turned away and looked out into the rest of the forest. It was only the afternoon, although it felt like she’d been there much longer, and she could see well enough through the shadows of the trees. They were still alone.

A part of her had been hoping Rumplestiltskin would appear and take her back to the Dark Castle, back to safety, but the other part of her still needed space, and at least she knew this woman was an ally of Robin’s.

“Do you want some?” Red offered, but Belle didn’t turn around. She couldn’t stomach the sight of Red’s idea of dinner, or the smell of it. That was one of the many things she missed about being in the Dark Castle; Rumple’s magical tea. She felt unbearably sick and no matter how much she tried to keep the contents of her stomach where it was, Belle feared Red would eventually guess what was wrong with her.

“No, thank you,” she declined. “I ate before I left.”

“Suit yourself.”

Another moment passed, before Red was stood by her side and offering her a piece of bread.

“How bad is it?” she asked as Belle accepted the food. The bread had no smell, and she hadn’t actually eaten anything all day. Perhaps the bread would help to settle her stomach.

“How bad is what?” Belle said, and took a small bite of the bread. It was dry and tough, but it didn’t have a taste that might roll her stomach, and for that she was grateful.

“Robin said you were… Well. You know.”

She stopped mid-bite and stared at Red. The woman looked uncomfortable, but not unfriendly. It didn’t look as if she had something planned for her, and she’d offered her food and a place to stay to help her. Belle had no choice but to trust the woman who’d been nothing but kind to her, and hope that her fear of Rumplestiltskin wouldn’t taint her view of Belle herself.

“How did he know?” she asked uncertainly, lowering her chunk of bread.

Red gave her a sympathetic smile and rubbed her arm. “You told him you were unwell, remember?” Belle nodded in answer. “You were really pale. It reminded him of his wife.”

“Oh.”

“So,” Red cleared her throat, searching for something to say as Belle continued to unhappily eat her tasteless bread. “So you…” she waved her hands helplessly, hoping that Belle wouldn’t make her say it. “With him?”

“Yes,” Belle said without shame. “With him.”

“I didn’t think he could.” Belle shot her a look, and Red held up her hands. “I mean, I didn’t think the Dark One could have a child, not that he couldn’t--” she waved her hands again, “--do that.”

“It turns out he can do both,” she said, a playful smile curling her lips despite herself. The wide-eyed look on Red’s face made Belle worry she’d shocked her too much and ruined their budding friendship, but that look didn’t last long. She slowly smiled back, and even laughed, before she turned to tend to their campfire.

“Can I ask you a question?” Red asked, poking at the smouldering kindling when it didn’t set light to the log she rested on top.

“Another one?” Belle teased, and came to sit down beside her.

“Another one.” Red agreed. She nodded to let her know it was all right, but Red didn’t ask whatever was on her mind right away. She prodded at the fire with a long stick and waited so long that Belle started to think she might not ask her anything after all. Then Red cast her a searching glance, and for the first time it wasn’t kindness or fear that Belle saw when their eyes met, it was sadness.

“Is he your true love?” Red asked sadly. The simple fact that someone considered Rumplestiltskin could have a true love made Belle want to answer. She was certain most of the Enchanted Forest had assumed they were together, and stayed together, as the result of a deal. No one but Red, Robin, and Hatter had considered that she might stay with him for love.

“Yes,” Belle answered with a rueful smile. “He is.”

Red nodded and went back to stoking the fire. She pressed her lips together, but the slight gesture did nothing to hide the little quiver in her chin. Belle knew the other woman was trying not to cry. She just wished she knew what she could say to help. She reached out and rubbed her hand across Red’s back. That, at least, seemed to help.

“I had a true love,” she said eventually, and her voice shook with the effort of speaking.

“You did?” Belle encouraged, but Red only nodded in reply. “What happened?”

“Cora.” Red sniffed and dabbed her eyes on her cloak. “She sent her to Oz.”

Silently, Belle pulled her into a hug and she went willingly. She rested her head on Belle’s shoulder, and she gave Red’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. It wasn’t surprising to hear that Red had loved and lost someone, but the realisation that everyone in the Enchanted Forest had lost their loves was a surprise. Belle had lost Rumple until she’d made her wish. Robin had lost his wife. Red had lost her true love. She wondered who Hatter had lost.

Rumplestiltskin had once referred to that world as the Lost Realm, and he’d been right. They really were lost. Regina’s curse may have backfired, and most of those lost loves were Cora’s doing, but was it possible that the curse’s power somehow rippled through the realm? Was everyone destined to be separated from those closest to them?

“That’s why you want to leave,” Belle guessed softly. “We all want to leave.”

“Do you think we will?”

Belle thought over Rumplestiltskin’s plan, or what vague bits she knew of it, and nodded.

“I do. We’ll make it to the queen’s castle, and we’ll each take a bean,” she assured Red. “And we’ll leave here. You can go to Oz, and Robin can take his son to safety.” She wondered where Hatter would want to go, and Rumple.

“What about you?” Red asked, voicing Belle’s thoughts out loud. “You’ll leave with Rumplestiltskin?”

“I want to. I don’t know where yet, but we’ll never be at peace for as long as we stay here. Not while Cora’s queen.”

“None of us will be,” Red agreed. “Which is why you have to go back to him. It’s not safe in these woods.”

“I can’t just leave you,” Belle protested, shaking her head when Red looked at her. “I’ll take you with me.”

“No...”

“You have no need to fear Rumplestiltskin. He won’t hurt you.”

“It’s not that,” Red said carefully, and Belle paused. Red’s fear was creeping back in, pushing away her sadness, and she pulled her cloak over her lap.

“What is it?” Belle asked. “Do you need help?”

“Tonight is wolf’s time,” she answered so quietly that Belle almost didn’t hear her. Red leaned away and put another log on the fire.

“Wolf’s time?” Belle repeated. “But… If there’s wolves out here then you have to come back with me. I can’t just leave you.”

“It’s not that simple.” Red stood up and shook off her skirts. Belle stood up after her and quickly regretted it. Her stomach still wasn’t completely settled, and it turned at the sudden movement. “Belle?”

“I’m all right,” she assured her, clutching at the front of her bodice. “I’m fine.”

“Good. Then you should go back.”

“ _No_.”

“If you leave now you can make it back by nightfall.”

“Why do you want me to leave you?”

Red sighed in defeat, still playing with the edge of her cloak. “It may be nothing.”

“What might be?”

“This is my first full moon with this cloak. Rumplestiltskin gave it to me,” she confessed. She said it haltingly, as if she feared Rumple would appear and take it back simply for mentioning their deal. Belle just sighed. Of course he’d made a deal with her new friend. She supposed there were very few people he hadn’t made a deal with.

“What does the cloak do?”

“It--” Red clutched the cloak even tighter, bunching it around her thighs. “It stops the wolf.”

Belle frowned and looked over the red cloak. It was beautifully made, with a fine, floral detail stitched into the thick red fabric, but she could see how that alone would stop any wolf. Not unless Rumple had enchanted it, but then why would Red need something to protect against a specific wolf?

“Wolf’s time,” Belle realised with a gasp. “ _You’re_ the wolf?” Red nodded sadly. “What did Rumple want in exchange for the cloak?”

“A favour.”

“Well,” she said, giving Red what she hoped would be a reassuring smile. “You helped me. You gave me a safe place to stay and think, and you’re already helping us. That should be favour enough.”

“What?”

“I’m collecting his favour now. For this.” Rumple wouldn’t like it, no doubt, but Belle would deal with him later. Red was a good person, and she shouldn’t have had to pay for something she so desperately needed. “Consider the deal complete.”

Red stared at her with her mouth agape. Belle couldn’t tell if she was shocked or if Red thought she was mad, but she soon closed her mouth and asked hopefully, “You can do that?”

“I don’t know,” Belle admitted. “But there’s a first time for everything.”

The hopeful note in Red’s voice, and the happy smile she sent her as the prospect of no longer being in Rumple’s debt settled over her, made Belle all the more determined to make Rumple agree. She had no idea what favour he could possibly want from Red anyway, not when the woman was already helping them.

She watched Red as she sat back down in front of the fire, which had finally begun to burn bright. She readied the rabbit on a spit and Belle had to turn away again.

“Do you really like that?” she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“Rabbit?” Neither of them looked at each other, but Red didn’t really need her to respond. She set two snapped sticks either side of the fire and rested the roast on top. “It’s… not bad. You get used to it. There’s not much to eat in the forest.”

Belle nodded in understanding. She may have grown up in a castle, and she might have taken up residence in Rumple’s castle now, but she’d spent more time alone in the Enchanted Forest than either. It wasn’t really the idea of hunting that made her feel queasy. It was her pregnancy.

“Do you have enough food for the night?”

“I won’t need it if the wolf takes over,” Red answered. She could hear the smile in her voice, but it was far too cheery and it made Belle turn back around.

“You don’t know that it will,” she reasoned. “If Rumple said that it will stop you from changing, then it will stop you from changing.”

Red sighed, turning the spit over the rising flames, and conceded with an unsure nod. “I suppose you’re right.”

“So you’ll need more than a rabbit and some bread to last you until tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll hunt again tonight.”

“It won’t be safe.”

“Then what do you suggest?”

“There’s an apple tree over there,” Belle said with a bright smile. Red paused and looked in the direction Belle had turned to to avoid the sight of the cooking rabbit. The little apple tree was beyond two or three other trees, where the Dark Forest wasn’t as dense. It was small and drooping, and even with sunlight reaching it with broken beams through the heavy canopy, it was clearly struggling to thrive.

“ _That_?”

“It just needs a little help,” she assured Red. She’d only tried to create a handful of plants using magic without Rumple, and her magic felt dull outside the castle, but she wanted to try.

Biting her lip, Belle ventured from their little camp and approached the poor apple tree. Warm sunlight hit her skin as she reached out to touch its thin trunk. It was cool to the touch, but she could still feel the flow of life running under the bark. She supposed that was the magic Rumple had taught; the ability to grow and sense life. The thought brought a sad smile to her face.

“All right,” she whispered, feeling only a little silly for talking to the tree with Red watching. “Let’s see if we can help you.”

Taking a deep breath, Belle closed her eyes and pictured the apple tree growing big and strong, its leaves bright green and apples round and crisp and red. She didn’t feel the heaviness of darkness as the magic built in her arm, or the tingle of Rumplestiltskin watching her, but the thought of him made the hum of magic grow stronger. The realisation made her gasp, and the magic came shooting out of her hand before she could stop it.

“Belle?” Red was on her feet before Belle had a chance to jump back and give the tree some space to grow. She stumbled back over neighbouring roots and fallen branches, and Red caught her by her elbow before she could fall.

“Thank you,” Belle said, embarrassed. Red waited until she righted herself on her feet, and then both of them looked to the tree. It was just like the first time she used magic, when Rumple had told her to picture how she wanted her greenhouse to look. The tree matched the image in her mind exactly, but it came with the scent of sap and the warmth of the sun was blocked out by its heavy leaves.

“Wow,” Red whispered as they both stared up at the canopy, dotted with red apples. “You know magic?”

“More than I thought I did,” she admitted, stepping up to the tree. “Help me up?”

Nodding, and still more than a little surprised, Red moved forward and braced her hands over her bent knee. Belle carefully placed her boot there and grabbed for the lowest branch.

“Ready?” she asked.

“I think so.”

On the count of three, Red boosted her up and Belle lifted herself up to grab for the nearest apples. She could only manage three before gravity pulled her back down. Red caught her, wrapping her arms around her waist, and lowered her back to the ground.

“I’ll pick more,” Belle said as she handed the apples to Red, but she shook her head and smiled.

“I think three’s enough. I don’t want to have to explain to the Dark One why I let his true love fall out of a tree.” At first Belle thought Red was saying it out of fear, but she looked at her face and saw her poor attempt at hiding her smile.

She smiled back. “Good point.”

Lifting the top layer of her skirts to hold the apples, Red walked back to the camp and Belle followed after her. She put them into a little brown pouch and hid it under her shelter, on her bed roll.

“Are you ready to go back?”

Somehow Belle knew the question was coming. Probably because she was now certain that she wanted to return to him. She at least wanted to be back in the Dark Castle.

“Yes,” she bit back a smile. “I think I’m ready.”

Red stood back up and pulled her in for a hug. It took her by surprise, but it was no more shocking than her magic on the tree actually working, so Belle quickly hugged her back. As much as she wanted to return to Rumple, she was still hesitant to leave her friend behind in the Dark Forest.

“Are you sure you want to stay out here?” Belle checked, and Red nodded against the side of her head.

“I’m sure,” she promised, releasing her from their hug. “At least for this wolf’s time. I’d… prefer to be alone.”

“I understand,” Belle said, and lightly squeezed Red’s arm. “And thank you.”

“I’m the one who should be thanking you. For the apples.”

“That was a thank you for listening.” She took a step back, and another. She wanted to be several paces away from Red and her camp before she called for Rumple. Red let her go with a wave and a smile, and Belle waved back before turning away.

Holding her breath, she closed her eyes and tried to calm the sudden pounding of her heart.

“Rumplestiltskin,” she whispered.

Legend had it that if you called the Dark One's name three times he would appear. Belle only had to call once and she immediately felt his presence behind her. The cloud of heavy dark magic enveloped her in a warm embrace, and she turned to see Rumple standing just behind her.

Their eyes met, but he made no move to reach out for her or ask her what she wanted. He wasn't even smiling. There was no trace of the mischievous imp in him as he watched her and waited, only a man who was hesitant and lost.

"Rumple," Belle said quietly, reaching for him. He let her brush her hand up his cheek and into his hair, but he didn't take his eyes off her. "Take me home?"

“And how long will you be staying this time?”

“Forever.”

He searched her face with those inhuman eyes she’d grown to love so much. He didn’t nod, but he didn’t decline her offer, either. Rumple tilted his head away from her hand and looked directly at the apple tree. He stilled against her hand, and Belle wondered what he was thinking. Did he recognise her magic, as she recognised his?

“Rumple?”

“Yes,” he said quietly, and nodded so slightly she barely saw it, only felt it as his hair brushed against her hand. “Yes. I’ll take you home.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find me @[mareyshelley](http://mareyshelley.tumblr.com) on tumblr


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